Growing Flames
by xtheGoldenEaglex
Summary: "I am a dragon, and a dragon does not break." Elaena Targaryen grew up inside the walls of Winterfell with the Stark children, in fear of the day when Robert Baratheon finally decided that he wanted her dead. But in the cold North, a dragon will rise. With fire and blood, she will avenge her family and take back what is hers while falling for a wolf betrothed to another. Robb/OC.
1. A Dragon in the Ice

_**Author's Note: **I had this idea in my head for a while now. What if Elia Martell had a third child, and what if she was raised by the Starks as a ward? I know Elia was supposedly barren, but they had no way of finding out for certain back then (I think). The first few chapters might be slightly boring and uneventful, but things will quicken up and become exciting later on in the story. I hope you enjoy the chapter, and I'd love to hear what you think._

* * *

**A Dragon in the Ice**

Elaena glanced down at the boys in the training yard. Robb, Jon and Theon were teaching Bran how to shoot. He was growing more and more frustrated at each miss.

She had never enjoyed sewing. When she was younger, Elaena would skip her sewing lessons to play with the boys. She would mess around with a wooden sword and a crossbow. She could never understand why boys were allowed to use weapons and girls weren't. Or why she had to attend sewing lessons when the boys didn't. Lady Stark was displeased when she saw Elaena fighting, and Elaena never wanted to disappoint Lady Stark. She never fought again.

Septa Mordane tutted as she inspected her stitches. Once again, they were crooked. "Elaena! This is atrocious!" she exclaimed.

"Sorry," she murmured.

She shook her head, tutted and went on to Sansa. She cooed over how brilliantly Sansa stitched. The elder Stark girl was sweet and ladylike, but Elaena had always preferred Arya. She supposed it was because, like Elaena, she was an outcast. She didn't want to conform to society's expectations of her, which made her a sore thumb.

Had it not been for her violet eyes, Elaena would have fitted in perfectly in Winterfell. Her hair was a dark brown and her skin was light. When she was younger, Elaena hid her eyes out of shame after learning of her grandfather's horrible deeds. Ned Stark, the man who had taken her as his ward, assured her that there was no shame in being a Targaryen.

Arya was staring longingly out the window. Her face lit up like a candle and her eyes snapped over to the door. Elaena wondered what had gotten into her. Arya simply smirked and winked at her, before slipping out of the room, unnoticed by Septa Mordane.

Elaena stood up and walked over to the window. Bran was lining his bow to the target, being encouraged by his brothers. Just as he was about to shoot, an arrow came from behind and hit the target. Bran, Jon and Robb turned around, startled, and checked to see who it was. Jon and Robb were soon engulfed in laughed as Bran, whose face had reddened in both anger and embarrassment, chased after the mystery archer. Elaena put two and two together and came to the conclusion that it was Arya who shot the arrow.

She laughed. Arya was wild. If only she could be as daring as the young Stark girl.

"Sansa, where has your sister gotten to?" Septa Mordane demanded. Sansa shrugged her shoulders, uninterested, and went back to her sewing. "Elaena, where's Arya?"

She suppressed a smile. "I don't know," she lied.

Lying had never been her forte. She stuttered and her face turned red. Often, she would blurt out the truth after a few moments of silence, even if the other person was accepting her lie.

Septa Mordane shook her head. "That girl... as wild as a wolf... nothing good can come of it..."

"She looks nothing like a wolf," Jeyne Poole said smugly from beside Sansa. "I believe she resembles a horse quite closely. The long face, the dark hair, that nose..."

Beth Cassel giggled. Sansa was too polite to laugh at her younger sister, although the corners of her mouth did turn upwards.

"That's not a very nice thing to say," Elaena said softly.

Jeyne shrugged. "It's true."

Elaena had never liked Jeyne Poole. Jeyne called her 'dragonspawn' numerous times behind her back, and repeatedly reminded her of her family's demise and disgrace. Elaena only had two living relatives on her father's side, but they lived across the Narrow Sea in Essos. Her uncle, Viserys, and her aunt, Daenerys, lived in Pentos. Daenerys was younger than her, which was odd, considering she was Elaena's aunt.

She asked for the Septa's pardon, which she granted after much persuasion, and left for her chambers. The halls of Winterfell were silent. The household was large, although they were well spread out. Lady Catelyn was brilliant at managing a household, Elaena hoped she would do as well when she was married. _If _she was married.

King Robert wouldn't be too happy if he found out that she was wed. He would fear a rival for the throne. Elaena barely escaped with her life from King's Landing. She would have been dead had it not been for Lord Stark. She did not desire a throne, and she would raise her children as dutiful bannermen of their liege lord and the king.

She became so lost in her thoughts, that she ended up bumping into Robb. "Oh!" she said in surprise. "Sorry! I didn't see you there."

Robb laughed. "It's alright," he said.

"I saw you in the yard," she told him. "You're training Bran."

He nodded. "Yes," he said. "He's improving, but he's frustrated. It doesn't help that Arya is such a natural."

Elaena laughed. "Poor Bran," she said. "Where are you off to?"

"Father's beheading a deserter of the Night's Watch," he informed her. "He wants us to come along. Jon, Theon, Bran and myself."

She knitted her eyebrows together. Bran was much too young to see a man being killed.

"Oh," was all Elaena said.

Robb smiled reassuringly. "He'll be fine," he said. "How was your lesson with Septa Mordane?"

She groaned, which made Robb chuckle. "I'm no good," she told him. "I'm terrible, in fact. But who needs to know how to sew a direwolf onto cloth anyway?"

He chuckled. "I would have thought you'd prefer to sew dragons."

Dragons were the sigil of House Targaryen. Elaena dreamt of dragons most nights. Of a large, fire-breathing beast with black scales who engulfed the world in his flames. Of a beautiful, white-scaled dragon flying through the winter skies, and of a green and bronze coloured dragon proudly guarding a castle. The dragons of her dreams were gigantic, fearsome and beautiful. But dragons had not been in this world for more than a hundred years, and that was unlikely to ever change.

"You know that wouldn't go down well with Septa Mordane," Elaena said. "The woman hates me enough already."

"She doesn't _hate _you," Robb insisted. She gave him a pointed look. "Fine, she might not like you, but she doesn't hate you."

Elaena could not recall a time when Septa Mordane had given her any sort of affection. Although she could be harsh with Arya at times, the septa could be kind and encouraging towards her. But Septa Mordane looked at Elaena as though she was the Mad King reincarnated. It upset her that the septa could not bring herself to treat Elaena as she treated the Stark girls. It made her feel like an outsider.

"It doesn't matter," she said, shaking her head. She no longer desired to speak of Septa Mordane and her dislike of Elaena. "I've always wondered why deserters of the Night's Watch have to be executed. They might change their minds. Aren't people allowed to change their minds?"

Robb narrowed his eyes at her, but did not press her. "They take a vow for life," he pointed out. "And many of the members of the Night's Watch are criminals. What would the world think of them if they just let deserters roam free?"

"My father should have been given the choice to take the Black," she blurted.

She rarely ever spoke of her deceased family. Her words were guarded, and she was careful to ensure that none of her statements could be considered treasonous. Even though she trusted Robb, she immediately regretted the words she had spoken.

He looked at her sympathetically and placed a hand on her shoulder. "Yes, he should have," Robb agreed. "But he wasn't. You know that you are welcomed here, right? You are as apart of this family as any Stark."

Elaena mustered a small smile. Robb smiled back at her before going to find his father.

They both knew his words were untrue.

* * *

Arya was among the few girls that Elaena liked. She wasn't snobby or rude, and she had never insulted Elaena because of her heritage.

Elaena pulled the brush through the tangles in Arya's hair. "Ow!" she exclaimed.

"Would you prefer if I left the brushing of your hair to Septa Mordane?" Elaena asked teasingly. "She is more ruthless than I."

She shook her head fervently. When Elaena was younger, Septa Mordane would brush her hair at nights, although Lady Stark would brush her hair occasionally. The septa was not kind with her. She would pull at the knots in Elaena's hair mercilessly, and Elaena suspected that Septa Mordane actually knotted her hair on purpose.

A wolf growled quietly in the corner of the room. Elaena winced, causing Arya laughed at her. "Nymeria won't hurt you. She only hurts the people I don't like."

"Should I warn Jeyne Poole?" Elaena jested, still glancing worriedly at the direwolf. Arya grinned.

Lady Stark knocked on the door. She smiled as she walked in. "I knew I'd find the two of you here," she said. "I have news."

Arya jumped out of her seat, glad to get away from the brush for a while. Elaena placed the brush on the vanity and sat next to Arya on the bed.

Ever since she was little, Elaena had admired Lady Stark. She hoped that she would become as fine a lady as her, as beautiful and as kind. She wasn't the type of lady who clung onto words in a song, but she was courteous and dignified. Lady Stark was the Mother reborn in Elaena's eyes.

"The King is coming," she told them. "He will be here in a moon's turn."

Elaena felt her heart pounding in her chest. Robert Baratheon killed her father at the Trident, and it was a well known fact that he harboured no love for the Targaryens. What if he saw her and decided that he wanted her dead after all? What if seeing her reawakened his hatred for the Targaryens?

Her nightmares usually involved Robert Baratheon. Sometimes, she would see him burying his axe into Rhaegar Targaryen's chest, but usually her nightmares ended with him killing her. Sometimes, she was executed publicly. Sometimes, he would come for her in her sleep and smother her with a pillow. Sometimes, he would notice her in a crowd, storm over to her and then strangle her. Nobody ever moved an inch. They always wore expressions of cool acceptance.

Lady Stark rambled on to Arya about how she was to be on her best behaviour. Elaena stared at the burning candle on Arya's vanity, shaking and fearing for her life.

"Elaena," Lady Stark called, but Elaena didn't hear her. "_Elaena_."

Her eyes snapped over to meet Lady Stark's. "Yes?" she replied.

She gave her a pitiful smile as she stood. "Come with me," she said. "I wish to speak with you."

Elaena rose and followed Lady Stark out of Arya's room. Her mind was filled with thoughts of her demise. Would she die the same way as her father had? Or would she end up like the Mad King, with a sword in her back?

Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer, would probably be coming with the royal retinue. She would be surrounded by her family's murderers. Would the Mountain be there too?

Lady Stark led her into the library. As soon as they were alone, she wrapped her arms around her in a motherly embrace. Elaena returned the hug. She was close to tears. She wanted to crumble in Lady Stark's arms. She wanted to feel sorry for herself for once.

_I am the blood of the dragon, and the dragon does not break._

She had always wanted to be a wolf; a grey-eyed, brown-haired wolf. In her youth, she pretended that she was. In truth, it was quite simple. She had the hair, and the Stark children had always treated her as though she was their own, as had Lord Stark and Lady Catelyn. But then Elaena would look into a mirror and her dreams were shattered. Her violet eyes gave her away. They reminded her of her lost family, of the fact that she would always be a dragon, never a wolf.

Lady Stark pulled away from her and placed a hand on each of Elaena's cheeks. "They will not harm you," she promised. She spoke with such certainty, with the voice she would use when reprimanding her children. "I won't let them."

Elaena smiled sadly at her. "He is the king, my lady," she said. "If he wants me dead, there is nothing you can do to stop him."

"If I thought that you would come to harm by the king's hand, you would be across the Narrow Sea by now," Lady Stark assured her, with a motherly smile. "You are like one of my children, Elaena. I would sooner die than see you maimed."

Tears rushed to Elaena's eyes. She stared at the floor and blinked them away. "But I am not your child," she said quietly, her voice betraying her emotions. "I am a Targaryen. I am the granddaughter of the Mad King. What if the king believes me to be mad?"

"He will not," she stated. "You are a kind girl. You are nothing like the Mad King."

Elaena looked up and met Lady Stark's eyes. "But my house name is Targaryen. That is enough."

Lady Stark sighed. "The king will not take kindly to you, Elaena, I will not lie. He will be angry, even furious, when he sees you. You represent the house Robert Baratheon sought to annihilate. You are the daughter of the man who stole his betrothed from him." Elaena pushed back the lump in her throat and clenched her teeth together in an attempt to stop the tears in her eyes from flowing. "But you have been on this earth for sixteen years, and not once since your nameday has the king spoken of your execution. I believe you are quite safe."

Elaena prayed to all the gods, both Old and New, that Lady Stark was right.

* * *

_**Author's Note**: So, what do you think? The next chapter contains Elaena's awkward meeting with the king, and Robert Baratheon is not known for holding his tongue!_


	2. Family Ties

**Family Ties**

_Never forget who you are._

Elaena stared at the letter in her hands. It wasn't even a letter, just a piece of parchment with five words written on it. Along with the paper, there was a package that Elaena had yet to open. She wondered who sent the note.

_Never forget who you are._

There were only a few people in the entire world who would say such a thing. Her mother's family, the Martells, being one. Perhaps they wanted to start a rebellion and put her on the throne. But Elaena had no desire for a throne, only a family.

The other possibility was the two other Targaryens – Viserys and Daenerys. Lord Stark had informed her of Viserys' desire for the Iron Throne. He viewed it as his birth right. The notion of a proper claim to a throne confused her. Aegon the Conqueror, Elaena's ancestor, had no claim to Westeros but his army and three dragons. He won the Iron Throne by right of conquest, as did Robert Baratheon.

Lord Stark watched her carefully as she read the note. "It does not say who it is from," Elaena said, although she was quite certain that it was Viserys Targaryen.

She handed him the note. He scanned over it quickly, and Elaena noticed the dismay etched on his features once he was finished. "The man who carried the package and the note seemed foreign," Lord Stark said.

"I haven't been corresponding with him," Elaena blurted. She was terrified of Lord Stark thinking she was committing treason with her uncle and aunt. "Viserys Targaryen, I mean. I've never spoken to him. I would never. I-"

He placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and gave her a kind smile. Many said that Ned Stark was a cold man, but he had only ever been warm to her. He gave her a home when she had none. He pleaded for her life when nobody else would. She would forever be in his debt.

"I know you haven't," he assured her. "I trust you." Elaena let out a breath she didn't realise she was holding. "We ought to burn this note. So it does not reach untrustworthy hands."

Elaena nodded in agreement. She had been so scared. The last thing she wanted was for Lord Stark to not trust her, to believe her to be a spy.

He went over to the fire and threw it in. The flames spread from the end of the note to the very top. Elaena turned to her uncle's gift. It was a wooden chest, secured with a latch. Cautiously, she unlocked the chest and opened it.

She had never seen such a breathtaking sight in her entire life. Viserys decided to remind her of her family ties by gifting her with three eggs. _Dragon eggs. Three dragon eggs. _

Dragons were extinct, or so Elaena and the rest of the world had thought. But the eggs in front of her were proof that dragons still existed. Perhaps, someday, she would hatch them. She would bring dragons back into the world.

It was unlikely, and Elaena doubted that these dragons could be woken, but she enjoyed thinking of owning a dragon. Of flying through skies on the back of a fire-breathing dragon. Of being truly _free_.

The eggs were beautiful. One was black and red, another green and bronze and the last one was white and gold. She traced the eggs with her finger, feeling their warmth against her skin. Elaena had never seen anything as beautiful, or as magnificent.

Lord Stark was fascinated by the eggs as well. His eyes did not move from the three eggs. "There hasn't been a dragon for centuries," he said. "These eggs are frozen. Time has turned them to stone."

They would be little more than ornaments, but Elaena dreamed of three dragons that night. Three dragons of her own.

* * *

"How are you going to hatch them?" Robb asked as soon as Elaena showed him the eggs.

She rolled her eyes, a smile playing on her lips. "Don't be silly, Robb," she replied. "I'm not going to hatch them. Dragons haven't been in this world for centuries."

"But you can bring them back," he said excitedly. "You're a Targaryen. Targaryens had dragons, didn't they? If anyone can hatch them, its you."

"And how do you suppose I do that?" Elaena questioned, raising an eyebrow. "How do you suggest I wake three frozen dragon eggs? I've already tried... oh, never mind."

A blush crept its way onto Elaena's face. It was embarrassing. She hadn't slept the night before. All that she could think about was her dragon eggs and how to hatch them. She tried placing the eggs into the fire, but nothing happened. The eggs did not burn, there wasn't a mark on them. They were unscathed.

"What?" Robb pressed. "What did you try?"

"It's silly," she muttered.

"Go on," he urged. "I won't laugh."

She smiled slightly. "Alright," Elaena began. "I put the eggs in the fire." Robb raised his eyebrows. "It seemed like a good idea at the time, and nothing bad happened. The eggs didn't burn, did they?"

"No, I suppose not," Robb agreed. He continued to inspect the eggs. "I wonder how much these are worth."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "You are not selling my eggs," she stated firmly. The firmness in her voice shocked the both of them.

Robb held his hands up in front of him and backed away from the chest. "I never said that I was going to," he said defensively. "Gods, I didn't know you'd be so protective over some eggs."

"They are dragon eggs," Elaena reminded him. "And you can't tell anyone about them. If anyone found out, they'd think that I was trying to hatch them in order to conquer all of Westeros."

"Are you?"

"No!" she insisted. "I... I don't want any throne. And I wouldn't use dragons even if I did. It wouldn't be fair. Innocent people would be burned because of my ambitions. It's not right."

"It's war," Robb pointed out.

"That doesn't make it right," she repeated sternly.

Elaena closed the chest and locked it. She picked it up and slid it underneath her bed, where nobody would see it. She had one maid, Tala, and Tala wasn't very intelligent. The maid wouldn't even notice if she had a boy in her bed.

"The king is coming tomorrow," Robb said, trying to end the awkward silence.

She would have preferred the silence. Despite both Lady and Lord Stark's reassurances, Elaena still trembled at any mention of the king. Her life was in his hands. If he decided that he wanted her dead, she would be dead within the week. She didn't like being so powerless. She didn't like having her fate in anyone's hands but her own. It made her feel scared.

"You've shaven," Elaena noticed, changing the subject.

Robb laughed and stroked his none existent beard. "Do you like it?"

She smiled. "Yes. Although, I do like the bit of stubble. It makes you look rather manly." Robb quirked a suggestive eyebrow and Elaena blushed red. "No! I didn't mean... Gods, _no_!"

His laughter echoed through the room. "Mother made us," he told her. "She said that she would get the blade herself if we did not. I don't trust Mother will a sharp edge when she's angry."

Elaena laughed. "Then you are most wise," she said. She looked out the window to the courtyard. Winterfell had a modest amount of staff. Elaena had grown accustomed to the quietness of Winterfell. "How many people do you think the king will bring?"

Robb snorted. "More than necessary, that's for sure. Probably the Lannisters, and his children. Probably the majority of King's Landing, actually."

She sighed heavily. "I hope they don't stay _too _long," she said.

He laughed in response. "Neither do I."

* * *

A sea of red, gold and black engulfed the Winterfell yard. The bright colours stood out against the dull, greyness of the North. Elaena had never seen so many different banners, except for in books. The gold lion of Lannister and the black stag of Baratheon were paraded through the yard.

Had it not of been for the white cloaks, Elaena would not have noticed the king. Old Nan had told them tales of the great Robert Baratheon, who had defeated Elaena's father at the Trident. Old Nan said that he was strong and burly, and could wield a giant warhammer. Elaena used to fear his warhammer, but she now doubted that the king could even lift it.

The king dismounted his horse and approached the Starks. All of Winterfell knelt before him. Lord Stark, Lady Stark and their trueborn children were lined up in front of Elaena, Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy. Elaena was thankful that she did not possess the silver hair that the Targaryens were known for. If she had, then King Robert would notice her immediately.

Her heart pounded in her chest and her hands began to sweat. She kept her eyes on the ground, careful not to look at the king for more than a second.

"Your Grace," Lord Stark addressed, standing.

"You've gotten fat," the king stated.

Lord Stark quirked an eyebrow and looked the king up and down. Elaena wondered if he would be insulted, if he would roar at Lord Stark and then go back to King's Landing. She felt bad for hoping.

But he didn't. Instead of roaring, he laughed, as did Lord Stark.

"Cat!" he said, and embraced Lady Stark.

"Your Grace."

"Nine years," the king began, stepping away from Lady Stark and continuing to speak to Lord Stark. "Why haven't I seen you? Where the hell have you been?"

"Guarding the North for you, Your Grace," Lord Stark replied. "Winterfell is yours."

Elaena looked behind the king. His wife, Queen Cersei of House Lannister, and their children descended from one of the coaches. Her nose was high in the air and she looked as though she smelt something foul.

"Who do we have here?" the king asked, moving along the line and greeting the Stark children. "You must be Robb." He went on to greet Sansa. "My, you're a pretty one. Your name is?"

"Arya," she answered.

"Show us your muscles," he said to Bran. Happily, Bran flexed his clothed arm. Elaena smiled. "You'll be a soldier."

Her worries were quelled, and she no longer feared for her safety. She hadn't noticed Jon's hand around her elbow, holding her up, but she was grateful for it. Jon blushed when he saw her glancing at his hand.

"Thank you," she whispered.

"Your welcome," he muttered back.

"Where is she?" Elaena felt her heart stop. "Where's the Targaryen girl?"

Elaena froze. She thought he had forgotten her. She thought that his hatred of all Targaryens was no longer as prominent as it once was. She thought she was safe.

Lord Stark had a solemn look on his face as he nodded in her direction. Her breathing quickened rapidly. _This is it. He's going to kill me. _She looked away from the king and stared at the ground. She tried to hide her violet eyes.

Robert Baratheon stood before her, his girth wide and his face flushed, but he was as terrifying as Elaena had imagined him to be. It was the power he held that was truly frightening. He could kill her. He could demand her head and he would be given it on a silver platter.

She fell to her knees in front of him. "Your Grace," she said.

All eyes were on her. _I am a Targaryen. The blood of the Mad King flows through my veins. _Her whole life, she had struggled to decide whether she was proud of being a Targaryen, or whether she was ashamed of her House. She was the descendant of so many great kings, but she was also the descendant of so many horrible ones.

"Look at me, girl," he commanded gruffly. She took a deep breath before meeting his eyes. "Stand." She shot Lord Stark an unsure look and he gave her a warm smile. She rose to her feet. "You're Elaena Targaryen."

"Yes, Your Grace," she answered quietly.

"Do you know what your ancestors did?" he asked. "What your grandfather and father did?"

_I know how you buried an axe into my father's chest._

"Yes, Your Grace," Elaena replied.

Fury danced in Robert Baratheon's eyes. She had never seen such anger before. He hated her. She had done nothing to him, but he hated her anyway."Your father kidnapped Lyanna Stark and raped her." Elaena flinched, looking away from him. "You have his eyes. The eyes of a monster."

_All men are monsters, _she felt tempted to respond, but she bit her tongue.

"I am sorry, Your Grace," she said.

"I killed your father at the Trident," the king told her. "I buried my axe into his heart. It was my most glorious moment. In my dreams, I kill the bastard every night."

The lump in her throat grew bigger and bigger. He was boasting about killing a man to his daughter. Rhaegar Targaryen may have been a monster in the king's eyes, but he was a lost father figure in hers.

"Leave the girl be," the queen said from behind her husband. "She's obviously frightened."

"So was Lyanna," the king stated. Nonetheless, he backed away from Elaena and spoke to Lord Stark. "Take me to your crypt. I want to pay my respects."

The queen seemed unhappy with any mention of Lyanna Stark. "We've been riding for a month, my love. Surely the dead can wait."

King Robert would have none of it. "Ned," he addressed.

Lord Stark called for a lantern.

"Where's the Imp?" Arya asked rather loudly.

The queen, embarrassed and humiliated, walked over to her other brother.

The Kingslayer, they called him. He killed the Mad King, Elaena's grandfather, by driving a sword through his back. Would he kill her too? Perhaps the king would order it, and Jaime Lannister would obey his king for once.

That day, she had seen two men who had killed two members of her family. The king was even more frightening than she thought him to be. Elaena wasn't a fool, she knew that he would hate her. But she never guessed how much.

When she thought no one was looking at her, she ran away from the yard. Jon called after her, but she ignored him. She wanted to be on her own.

The Stark direwolves were kept in the stables. Elaena had felt jealous when they were presented to the Stark children. It was another reminder that she was not a Stark, nor would she ever be, but she did enjoy the company of the wolves.

She shut the door to the stables. Once she was alone, she slid down the wall and onto her behind, hugging her legs as tears fell. She was being silly and weak. So many people had it worse than her, so many people lived horrible lives and they didn't cry about it. Like the slaves in Slaver's Bay. That was what she would tell herself each time she was about to cry. No matter how bad things got, there would always be other people who had it a hundred times worse.

But did that mean that her problems faded into unimportance? Did that make her feelings worthless and stupid? She felt lonely, and scared. She would never belong anywhere. She would always live in fear of Robert Baratheon.

The stable door opened and Jon walked in. _Of course he would follow me. _She wiped her eyes and stood up. Her dress was covered in muck and hay, and there was sticks in her hair. She smiled wobbly at him. "I suppose I'm quite a sight," she said, trying to make a jest.

"You're beautiful," he replied. Jon picked a stick out of her hair. "Just a bit messy."

Elaena's smile faltered. "He hates me," she blurted.

"He doesn't hate you..."

"I saw it in his eyes, Jon," Elaena said. "He looked at me as though... as though I was the one who kidnapped Lyanna Stark. As though I was the one who sentenced Lord Rickard and Brandon Stark to die." Tears welled up in her eyes. "I thought he was going to... I thought..."

Jon wrapped his arms around her as she wept. Elaena felt bad. Jon had his own problems. He felt just as alone as she did.

"No one's going to hurt you," he assured her. "Not the king, or the queen. Not anyone. I won't let them."

He was the same age as she was. How was he so mature? Jon once told her that bastards grew up quicker than trueborn children. It saddened her to think of Jon's lost innocence. He deserved a normal childhood. They both did.

"We're barely grown," she reminded him, pulling away from the embrace. "They can do as they please with us."

"Then my lord father won't let them," Jon insisted. "He cares for you. He pleaded for your life once, he'll do it again."

Elaena smiled at him. She so badly wanted to believe his words, but she was not an idiot. What the king wanted, he received.

"Thank you, Jon," she said, and kissed him on the cheek.

Just before she turned around, she saw him blush bright red.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Thanks to everyone who followed, favourited and reviewed! It means a lot. I hope you guys liked the chapter! I think that, due to Robert's intense hatred of Targaryens, he would not respond well to any of them, even if they were children._

_Elaena's character will develop throughout the story. And the Daenerys and Viserys plot will be roughly the same. I will be telling the first ten chapters from Elaena's POV, though that will change as the story goes on._

_Hope you enjoyed the chapter, and don't forget to tell me what you think!_


	3. Ghosts of the Past

**Ghosts of the Past**

Elaena tried her best to avoid the king. Whenever she saw him, she sprinted away. Robb said that she was being silly. That there was no way Eddard Stark would allow the king to harm her, but Lord Stark was only a lord, and Robert Baratheon was a king.

She sat beside Robb at the feast that evening. Lady Stark organised the banquet as a welcome party for the royal retinue. Elaena had asked to be seated at the back, away from the eyes of the king, but Lady Stark insisted that she be seated with her children. "You have nothing to be ashamed of," she had said. "You are not your father or grandfather."

It wasn't that she was ashamed, it was that she feared the king's wrath would grow with every look her way, at every glance at her Targaryen eyes. At the beginning of the feast, the king had been glaring venomously at her, but then he became to drunk to function. Elaena thanked the gods for the king's love of wine.

"You're shaking," Robb whispered, placing a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," she replied, shrugging his hand away.

Sansa was talking with Jeyne Poole about how handsome Prince Joffrey was. Arya seemed very bored as she played with her food, and Bran and Rickon were slowly falling asleep in their seats.

Elaena felt the queen's eyes on her back. She looked over her shoulder, and saw the Lannister queen, so beautiful and proud, staring at her. The queen was a Lannister through and through, with striking green eyes, golden skin and blonde hair. The royal children took after their mother, and there was not a trace of Baratheon in them.

The queen's eyes finally left her, and settled on her husband, who was groping a kitchen maid. Elaena pitied the queen. She was trapped in a loveless marriage with a man who could never love her. King Robert would always be in love with the ghost of Lyanna Stark.

Her mother had been in the same situation. Rhaegar Targaryen abandoned her for Lyanna Stark. Lady Lyanna must have been very beautiful for two men to go to war for her. For Rhaegar Targaryen to abandon his wife and children to be with her. A part of Elaena would always hate Lady Lyanna for enthralling her father. For ripping her family apart.

She stood up from her seat. Robb gripped her wrist. "Where are you going?" he asked worriedly.

"I need some air," she said, tearing her hand from his grasp and walking out.

She chided herself for being so horrible to Robb. He cared about her, Elaena knew that, and she was being stubborn and proud.

The night was cold, as most nights were in Winterfell. She heard the clashing of a sword against an object and went to investigate. She saw Jon, striking his sword against a dummy.

"I'm sure he's dead now," she called.

He spun around to face her. "Oh, Elaena," he replied, sheathing his sword. "I was just..."

"Who were you imagining it to be?" she asked, a playful smirk crossing her features. "Me?"

Jon chuckled and shook his head. "No. Not you."

"Who, then? The Lannisters? I think any person in all Seven Kingdoms would cherish the feeling of slicing a dagger through one of their hearts."

"No," he said. "Not a Lannister."

"Lady Stark?" she suggested. Jon didn't reply. "Jon, Lady Stark-"

"No," he stopped her before she could go on a lengthy rant about how Lady Stark's feelings towards him were partially justified. "It's not her either."

She looked relieved. "Who is it?" she asked. "Come on, tell me!"

"I'm joining the Night's Watch."

Elaena froze. Of all the things she expected him to tell her, him taking the black was not one of them. She knew he didn't feel welcome here, and she could understand that, but the Night's Watch was for life. Once a man took his vows, he could never leave on pain of death.

"Why?" Elaena inquired. "Why are you leaving?"

"I don't belong here," he stated. "I never did. I'm a Snow, they're Starks. A lord's castle is no place for a bastard."

"Jon..."

"No," he said firmly. "Elaena... I can't stay here any more. What purpose do I have here? What reason do I have to stay?"

"Me," she answered, her eyes full with tears. "Don't go, Jon. _I _need you. You're my friend." Something flashed in Jon's eyes. Elaena placed a hand on his shoulder. "Please, don't go."

He shrugged her hand off his shoulder. "I have to," Jon said. "The Wall is where I am needed. I don't have any use here."

Elaena threw her arms up in frustration. "You keep saying that, Jon, but you're wrong. You do have a use here. Lord Stark loves you-"

"He loves Robb more than me," Jon countered. "And all of his trueborn children. He loves them all more than me."

She shook her head. "That's not true," she argued. "He really does care for you. You're his _son_."

"I'm his bastard," he said grumpily. "His _bastard _son."

"He doesn't see you as that."

"And what of Lady Stark?" Jon asked. She could hear the subtle anger in his voice. "What does she see me as?" Elaena pursed her lips in a thin line. "Exactly. Lady Stark sees me as a bastard. As reminder of her lord husband's infidelity. I intend to free of her of that burden."

"You're being silly," Elaena said. "Not everyone hates you."

"Everyone looks down on me," Jon replied. "You know that as well as I. They give me looks of distaste and disgust. Most people don't even want to speak with me because of the stain. And it's all because I'm a-"

"Bastard," she finished. Jon seemed shocked. Elaena never used the word 'bastard.' "Yes, you're a bastard. And I am a Targaryen. Both are of equal social stigma. You think I don't get the looks? Or the glares? I do, Jon, and it does hurt. But unlike you, I can't go to the Wall, because I am a girl. I wouldn't even mind becoming a Maester, but I can't do that either. The world is cruel to bastards, cripples, peasants, Targaryens and women, and its not too kind to the rest of humanity either. Its best to simply accept it."

"The girl speaks wise words."

Elaena spun around. In front of them stood a man ridiculously short. He had light blonde hair and mismatched green and black eyes. She recognised him as Tyrion Lannister, the Imp. He had none of the beauty given by the gods to his brother and sister, and none of their grace either. He waddled drunkenly, a skin of wine in his hand.

"Although, she has forgotten dwarfs," he said thoughtfully. "The world is very cruel to dwarfs."

"What're you doing back there?" Jon demanded.

He took another mouthful of wine. "Preparing for a night with your family. I hear you're joining the Night's Watch. I've always wanted to see the Wall."

"You're Tyrion Lannister," Elaena stated. "The queen's brother."

He grinned ruefully. "My greatest accomplishment. You... you're the last Targaryen, aren't you?"

"Not the last," she told him. "There are two others – Viserys and Daenerys, my aunt and uncle – across the Narrow Sea."

Tyrion nodded. "Ah, yes. But you, Elaena Targaryen, the bane of King Robert's existence, are the last Targaryen in Westeros. If it wasn't for Ned Stark, you'd be dead. You know, I've always had an interest in dragons. When I was younger I would dream of them. The notion of mounting a dragon and burning down cities to ashes always appealed to me." Elaena raised an eyebrow. "A jest, sweet girl. They say that Targaryens have a fondness for fire. Nothing aroused the Mad King like the smell of burning flesh."

Elaena scrunched her nose in disgust. She had heard numerous tales of the Mad King, of her grandfather. She didn't like hearing them. It made her feel ashamed that she was his granddaughter, and then she would feel guilty that she was ashamed.

"The Mad King is dead," Jon spoke, sensing Elaena's discomfort. "There is no need to torment his granddaughter over his atrocities."

"Looks like you have a gallant protector, Lady Elaena. He seems quite besotted with you." They both blushed. Although Elaena had never even considered Jon as a partner. She had never considered anyone as a partner. "They will sing songs of you both. Elaena Targaryen, the last dragon and Jon Snow, the bastard wolf." Jon glared at the dwarf. "Did I offend you? I apologise. You are a bastard, though."

"Lord Eddard Stark is my father," Jon stated.

"And Lady Stark is not your mother," Tyrion Lannister pointed out. "Making you a bastard. Let me give you some advice, bastard. Never forget what you are. The rest of the world will not. Wear it like armour, and then it can never be used to hurt you."

Jon narrowed his eyes at him. "What the hell do you know about being a bastard?"

"All dwarves are bastards in their fathers' eyes," he said before examining the two of them. "The two of you fit well together, by the way. It's a shame Lord Snow wants to freeze his balls off at the Wall."

The Imp turned around and waddled inside. Jon picked up his sword and attacked the dummy, even more ferociously than before.

Elaena sighed. "Jon?"

He ignored her, and Elaena realised that he just wanted to be left alone.

The men at the feast were even more drunk than they had been when Elaena departed. She saw Benjen Stark speaking to Lord Stark, and noticed the empty seats previously sat on by Arya, Bran and Rickon.

She sat beside Robb at the table and sipped at her wine. "You were gone for a while," he noted.

"Feasts are taxing," she replied shortly.

"I brought Arya to bed," Robb told her. "She assaulted Sansa."

Elaena laughed. "What did she do this time?"

Robb grinned. "She flung her desert at Sansa. It was hilarious."

"I bet your lady mother didn't think so," Elaena commented, glancing at Lady Stark.

"Oh, gods no," Robb said. "She looked as though she was going to explode. It didn't help that she was sitting beside the pompous, Lannister queen."

"Mind your words, Robb," Elaena told him sternly. "You never know who's listening."

He rolled his eyes. "And what would they do? Kill me? You worry too much."

Elaena sighed. "And you don't worry enough."

Secretly, she envied Robb's carefree nature. If it wasn't for her fear of an execution and the stain of being a Targaryen, perhaps she would have been more like him. She had never truly been given the chance to be a child. To be wild and without a care.

"You need to loosen up." Robb's face suddenly split into a grin. "Dance with me."

Her eyes widened. "Robb, I don't think..."

"Come on," he urged, standing up and offering her his hand. "It'll be fun."

She glanced at his hand unsurely. _You wanted to be more like Robb. _"Fine."

Robb pulled her up and led her to the open space in the centre of the room. Many lords were dancing with their lady wives, and many were dancing with women that certainly weren't their wives. The lords were drunk, and there were no children in the entire hall. Elaena and Robb were youngest in the hall, following Sansa's departure.

"I can't dance," Elaena whispered to Robb, looking around her to make sure nobody was looking at them. "Septa Mordane tried to teach me... but I really can't."

He chuckled. "Don't worry. Neither can I."

Elaena saw the hall spin as Robb spun her around. She laughed as she stumbled into his arms, becoming very dizzy. The quality of the music was slowly deteriorating. Elaena guessed that it was due to the musicians' increasing drunkenness and, perhaps, growing fatigue.

For the first time since she had heard that the king was to arrive, Elaena felt truly happy. Robb was practically throwing her around the hall, spinning and leading her from one end to the other. Her cheeks were flushed and she was sweating, and Elaena was sure she looked horrible, but she couldn't find it in her to care.

She decided to stop dancing when the room became but a combination of colours. She stepped away from Robb and placed her hands in front of her, trying to steady herself. "Wait, wait," she said. "The room is spinning."

Robb smiled. "We should go to bed." He then blushed. "_Separate _beds, of course."

Elaena laughed and nodded. "I know. I think you need your rest as much as I do."

They left the feast and went to their rooms. The Stark children, Theon and Elaena all had rooms situated close to each other. The girls' rooms were on the opposite side of the boys'. Elaena had often wondered why it was, or if it was merely symmetrical.

They stopped outside of their chambers. "Thank you, Robb," Elaena said.

"For what?" he asked, confused.

She smiled. "For showing me how to have fun," she told him, and gave his hand a squeeze. "The gods know I needed it."

She turned around and went into her room. Her maid, Tala, greeted her as soon as she came in. "I have a bath drawn for you, my lady."

Tala had been her maid since she was nine, and Tala knew that she loved baths. There was something relaxing about sitting in steaming water. It was as if the water could wash away all of her worries.

Her clothes were discarded in a pile on her bed. She approached the bath. Steam was rising from the water, and Elaena was sure that it was very hot.

"My lady, the water is too hot!" Tala warned.

She stepped into to the bath and sunk into it, allowing the water to caress every part of her skin.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **__I'm not too happy about this chapter, its just... meh. I hope you guys enjoyed it anyway. Remember to review! They're like my own personal stash of heroine!_


	4. Tragedy

**Tragedy**

A wolf's mournful howl rang through the air in Winterfell.

Never before had Elaena seen such melancholy throughout the castle. Winterfell had never been the most jolly of places, but it had never been sad. It had been welcoming and warm, just like its people, but now... everyone seemed to be in mourning.

Bran had fallen while climbing. Elaena was suspicious. Bran never fell, he was the most skilled climber she had ever seen. Lady Stark would often scold him for climbing, stating how horrible it would be if he fell, but Elaena never took it seriously. Nobody did. _Bran never falls._

Lady Stark was the most depressed of them all. When Elaena visited Bran in his chamber, Lady Stark was by his side. Her face was white and bags had formed under her eyes. Catelyn Stark had always been her role model, and Elaena would always view her as the strongest woman in Westeros, but the strongest woman in Westeros seemed so very broken as she prayed for her son.

"He will wake," Elaena stated. "Maester Luwin said-"

"He won't be able to walk," Lady Stark said. "He won't be able to ride, or to hunt, or to climb. How he loved to climb, and it was the death of him. Who will he be when he wakes? Will he be the same little boy he was before he had fallen? Will he be a shell of the joyful, adventurous boy he was?" She choked on a sob. "I can't... I can't bare the thought of Bran being a cripple. I can't bare the thought of him being unhappy."

Elaena placed a hand on her shoulder. "He will be alive."

"What if he regrets surviving?" Lady Stark asked worriedly. "What if he wishes he had just... died?"

Lady Stark broke into an array of sobs, tears trailing down her sunken cheeks. Elaena was unsure of how to comfort her. Did she even want comfort? Before Elaena sat a mother mourning for her son, of course she desired comfort.

Somewhat uncertainly, Elaena wrapped her arms around Lady Stark. "All will be well, my lady. Bran will recover, and he will live a happy life."

She didn't really believe her own words. Bran would be upset when he woke up. The boy dreamed of becoming a knight and wielding a sword, he would not adapt easily to being a cripple. _Poor Bran. He's too young to be broken._

Somebody entered the room. Elaena broke away from Lady Stark. Jon stood by the door, looking uncertain as to whether or not to enter. Lady Stark glared at him furiously.

"I came to say goodbye to Bran."

"You've said it," she snapped. "Elaena, will you check on Robb?"

"Lady Stark..."

"Go."

Elaena knew better than to argue with her, and bowed her head. She gave Jon a small smile before leaving.

She immediately regretted it. Lady Stark's words affected Jon more than he would admit. It was the last thing he needed before he took the black. Elaena would miss him greatly. He was her friend, her closest confidante. There was no one she trusted more.

_I might never see him again. _She tried to push back any thoughts in relation to Jon. With everything going on, the last thing she needed was another reason to cry.

She became lost in her thoughts. Her head collided with a man's shoulder, and Elaena was woken from her thoughts.

"I'm so sorry-"

_Jaime Lannister. _Elaena froze. The man who killed her grandfather in his own throne room stood before her. He had no honour and no qualms about killing those who was sworn to protect. He frightened Elaena.

She tried to hold her head up. She didn't want to shake or tremble. _Unbowed. Unbent. Unbroken. _Those were the words of her mother's house. She felt silly reciting the words of a House when she hadn't met any of it's members; her own family. She felt even sillier reciting the words of a House that was disgraced.

"My lord," she said, curtsying.

The Kingslayer wore a smirk, as though it was painted onto his face. "You know, its best to look up when walking. It saves a person from having to make awkward apologies."

"Yes, I know," Elaena assured him. She stared at the ground. "I didn't mean to... I was just..."

He quirked an eyebrow. "Inspecting the floor?" He looked down at the floor mockingly. "Hm... it seems quite safe. Thank you for your efforts to make sure the floor is satisfactory. You can look up now."

She didn't lift her eyes from the floor. "I should go. If you would excuse me, I-" The Kingslayer did not move. Instead, he threw back his head and laughed. Elaena didn't know what was so funny. "My lord, if I could-"

"Do I frighten you, girl?" he asked, grinning. "Is that why you dare not look at my face? You wound me. I thought I was quite pleasing to look at. Of course, it must not be easy to stand before the man who drove a sword through your grandfather's back. Is that why you tremble?"

"No, I'm not-"

He interrupted her once again. "There's no need for you to excuse your behaviour. You know, I felt sorry for you that day when King Robert practically accused you of kidnapping and raping Lyanna Stark. I can't see you hurting a fly, my sweet little princess."

She narrowed her eyes at him. He was _mocking _her. "I am not your little princess," she said angrily, fury boiling inside of her.

He smirked. "No, you're not. The dragons do not rule the Seven Kingdoms any more. Robert Baratheon saw to that." Elaena winced. "Afraid of a name, are we? Do you quake with fear when you hear mine?"

_Yes. _

"Elaena."

She thanked the gods for Robb at that moment. "Robb?"

The Kingslayer's smirk grew. "Ah, the young wolf has come to whisk his little dragon away." He gave them a low bow. "My lady."

Elaena stared blankly into space as he left. Jaime Lannister was very golden. He looked like one of those knights from the songs. But he was no true knight. He was a monster.

* * *

When Elaena tried to say goodbye to Sansa, the excited thirteen year old had said little more than five words to her before she rushed off to find the prince. Arya, however, leapt into her arms and told her that she would miss her, and Elaena told her to stay out of trouble.

They both knew that she would not.

Lord Stark embraced her as though she was one of his own. When he pulled away, she saw pride in his eyes. "I remember the day I brought you home; a violet-eyed babe. Everyone thought I was mad, bringing a Targaryen into my home, but I see the woman you've grown into, and I thank the gods that my honour led me bringing you home."

She laughed softly, feeling tears well in her eyes. "I'm glad you brought me home too. Despite what people thought."

"People will think what they think, that doesn't make their thoughts correct," he said. "Never listen to them, Elaena. You're a kind, intelligent young woman, not the mad girl they want you to be so that they can have something to gossip about."

Lord Stark hadn't been a father figure to her in the way Lady Stark had been a maternal figure, but she cared for him all the same. She didn't want him to go south. She didn't want any of them to leave. Winterfell would be lonely without the Starks.

"I won't," she promised. "Thank you, Lord Stark. For everything."

His lips curled into a warm smile. "All I ask is that you write to me when you hatch those eggs."

Elaena smiled back at him. It was unlikely that she was going to hatch them, but if she did, he would be the first person she'd write to.

"I will," she said. "Take care of yourself, my lord."

"And you," he replied. "Winter is coming."

_Winter is coming. _The words chilled her to the bone.

* * *

"Jon!" Elaena called, sprinting out of the castle. "Jon!"

He had been saddling his horse, ready to leave. He had feared that she forgot about him, or that she was angry with him. Jon never wanted her to be angry with him.

She panted and clutched her stomach when she stopped in front of him. "Thank the gods you haven't left yet," she said.

"I thought you were angry with me," he told her.

Elaena smiled and shook her head. "I was never really angry with you. Frustrated, maybe, but never truly angry." She fidgeted with a piece of cloth in her hand. "I want to give you something, but it's so badly made I'm reconsidering doing so."

Jon chuckled. "It's the thought that counts."

She laughed and, with an unsure glance at the material in her hand, she handed him the piece of cloth. It was a grey direwolf on a white field, House Stark's sigil. He smiled down at it. It was horribly sewn, but Jon cherished it.

"It's so you never forget who you are," she said. "You might take the black, but you will always be a Stark, no matter what your last name is." She looked at him worriedly. "Do you like it?"

He nodded. "Yes," he replied honestly. "And thank you. I'll keep it with me... always. They'll have to bury me with it."

"Promise me that won't be any time soon," Elaena sternly demanded.

Jon smiled. "I promise."

He used those last moments with her to memorise her face. She was beautiful, the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. She had perfect, high cheekbones, dark, brown hair and plump, pink lips. Every inch of her was perfect. Tears swam in her haunting violet eyes as she embraced him.

"I'm going to miss you," she whispered.

"I'll miss you too."

He mounted his horse and left Winterfell, his childhood home, without a glance back.

Jon wouldn't look back. He couldn't look back.

* * *

The flames danced in the fireplace in the corner of the room. Lord Stark, Sansa, Arya and the royal party had left Winterfell. She felt as though a heavy burden had been lifted from her. As though she could breathe again. Although, she would miss Arya, Lord Stark and even Sansa.

The serenity that came with the royal departure did not last long. There had been a fire, which served as a distraction for an assassin to break into Bran's room. But he survived, as did Lady Stark, because of Bran's direwolf.

She was helping Robb with his duties as acting Lord of Winterfell. They had made appointments to replace the men who had left with Lord Stark. It was originally supposed to be Lady Stark's job, but she was too overcome with grief for Bran that she could not do anything but sit by his bed. Elaena didn't blame her. She couldn't imagine the grief that came along with almost losing your son.

"Finally," Robb exclaimed with a relieved sigh, falling into his seat. "That's done."

Elaena pulled out a piece of paper. "Yes, but we still have to calculate the cost of the royal visit." Robb groaned. "Oh, come on. I'll help you."

Robb took liberties with Elaena's willingness to help him. She did most of the work while Robb hovered over her shoulder, pretending to be assisting her. She didn't mind arithmetic. While the boys were skilled with swords, Elaena had a gift with numbers and High Valyrian. But her skill with speaking High Valyrian came with years of practice and determination. She would spend hours with Maester Luwin as he taught her the mother-tongue of House Targaryen. It gave her a connection to her family, to the dead dragons of Old Valyria.

"Woah," Robb said, staring at the result of her calculations. "That's a lot."

She nodded in agreement. "It would be best if we kept this from your lady mother."

"I doubt she would care," he blurted, a trace of anger in his voice. "Its as if she forgets that _we _need her. _Rickon _needs her."

_You need her, _Elaena almost finished, but she knew Robb wouldn't appreciate that. She laid a hand on his and gave him a reassuring smile. "Everything will be fine, Robb," she promised. "Bran will wake up and everything will be back to normal."

"He will never walk," Robb said quietly. "Bran loved to run and play. Now he can never do that."

Elaena sighed. "He loves books too. He can find other interests. It will take some getting use to, but Bran is strong. He can fight through this."

"I hope so." He looked deep in thought.

She squeezed his hand. "Are you alright, Robb? You seem down."

"It's just... the fire and the assassin... who would send an assassin after a _child_?" he asked, disgusted. "Who would have a vendetta against Bran?"

Elaena shook her head. She had spent most of last night pondering over the exact same thing. "I don't know," she admitted. "But we'll find out, and Bran will be avenged."

Robb nodded, seemingly examining her. He had such pretty blue eyes. They were like pools of sapphires. He was handsome too, annoyingly so.

A cough broke the silence. She snapped her eyes away from Robb's and looked to see who it was. "Sorry to interrupt you two love-birds," Theon Greyjoy taunted, "but Lady Stark wants to speak with us in the Godswood."

She blushed furiously, keeping her eyes firmly on the ground. "We're not 'love-birds'," Robb grumbled.

Theon's mocking laughter echoed through the room. Robb mumbled something about leaving his sword with Rickon, and raced off to go get it.

"So," Theon began, smirking pompously. "I see you and Robb have gotten close. Has he mustered the courage to fuck you yet?"

Her cheeks reddened even more. She tried to hide it with her hair. "Theon!" she cried. "No... we... he hasn't. And he doesn't want to and neither do I. I can't believe... I don't... Where did you even get that idea?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "You're a good-looking girl. I don't see why he wouldn't want to fuck you."

Elaena scrunched her nose in disgust. "You're disgusting," she said. "And Robb has more tact than that. He doesn't want to sleep with every person in a skirt."

"That's what you think," Theon said.

She smacked him on the arm. "You're being stupid, Theon, and revolting. And, despite what you might think, not every man is as lustful as you are."

"Then not every man has lived as full a life as I have," he said. giving her a wink. He placed a hand on Elaena's hip, causing her to shift uncomfortably. His hand slowly went from her hip to her behind. "I'm not Robb. I won't shy away from you like a blushing maiden. I'll give you what you want, and you'll be begging for my cock when I'm finished."

She didn't 'want' his cock. Theon had always been a slimy flirt, but he had never once touched her so inappropriately. His hand squeezed her bottom and she jumped.

"Theon," she said, trying to push him away. "Please, Theon. I don't want..."

"Yes, you do," he whispered into her ear. "You want me."

Elaena shook her head vehemently. "No, I really don't," she repeated firmly, but Theon ignored her and pushed her onto the table, sliding up her skirts. "Get off me!"

When it was clear that he wasn't going to let her go freely, she kicked him in the groin. She jumped off the table and smoothed her skirts as he groaned in pain and held his manhood. She thought about running, but Robb would suspect something and she really did not want to explain what had happened.

"You little bitch!" he growled. "You little _whore_!"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I am no whore," she spat.

"Your mother was a whore too," Theon said, attempting to stand up straight. "A Dornish _whore_. A kitchen maid told me that she took Ser Arthur Dayne as a lover. Did you know that she was killed and raped by the Mountain on the day of the Sack of King's Landing? He killed her handmaiden first, and then smashed the head of her son against the wall. They say that Gregor Clegane raped Elia Martell with the blood and brains of her son still on his hands. Then, he killed her."

He opened his mouth to continue, but Elaena slapped him before he could. She had grown up with Theon. He wasn't like this towards her before. She might not have been as close to him as she was with Jon and Robb, but they hadn't hated each other. Elaena felt nothing but hate for the Kraken boy now.

"How could you?" she demanded, tears welling in her eyes. _Don't cry. _"How could you tell a daughter about how her mother was raped and then slaughtered?"

She knew her mother died on the day she was born, and she had heard rumours as to who did it. _The Mountain. _The largest and most feared knight in all Seven Kingdoms, but he was no true knight. Was any knight gallant? Or were they all just monsters dressed in shiny armour?

But Theon's telling of the happenings that day seemed truer than anything else she had heard. In her dreams, she heard her mother's screams and the gruff laughter of a man.

She would get her revenge. She didn't know how, but someday she would avenge the brutal deaths of her mother and brother.

Her hand stung from the slap. She looked up at Theon in fear. He was much stronger than her, and if he decided to maim her it would hurt more than the slap she had given him.

Theon glared at her, but before he could do anything Robb came back into the room, his sword in his hand. "Rickon was playing with it when I went in," he told them with a chuckle. "Thank the gods I came in when I did." He glanced between Elaena and Theon. "Did something happen?"

"No," Theon said, sending Elaena a sharp glare. "Nothing."

"Then why is your cheek red?" Robb asked, raising an amused eyebrow.

Elaena looked at his cheek. It was as red as blood, and Elaena felt guilty when she looked at it. She caused someone else pain, even if that person deserved it.

"It's hot in here," he said stiffly.

Robb still didn't seem convinced, but he dropped the matter and nodded. Of all the lies Theon could tell, he had to go with the most unlikely one. The room was not warm, albeit it wasn't freezing. It certainly wasn't warm enough to cause him to flush.

"Come on, then," Robb said. "We should go meet my mother in the Godswood."

They followed him out of the room. There was an awkward silence the entire walk from Winterfell to the Godswood.

It was a small gathering. There was only Lady Stark, Ser Rodrik Cassel, Maester Luwin, Theon, Robb and herself. Lady Stark wore a solemn expression, and Elaena found herself fearing what she had to say.

"What I am about to tell you must remain between us," she said sternly. The five of them nodded. "I don't think Bran fell from that tower. I think he was thrown."

"The boy was always sure-footed before," Maester Luwin commented.

"Someone tried to kill him twice," Lady Stark said. "Why? Why murder an innocent child?"

Elaena caught on. "Because he saw something he wasn't supposed to see."

There was something akin to pride in Lady Stark's eyes, and Elaena felt childish joy at the sight. "Yes," she replied, nodding.

"Saw what, my lady?" Theon asked.

It amazed Elaena how quickly Theon's demeanour had changed. Only a few moments ago, he was cruel and brutal, and now he was acting the part of the gallant man. He disgusted her.

"I don't know," Lady Stark admitted, "but I would stake my life the Lannisters are involved. We already have reason to suspect their loyalty to the crown."

Lannisters had no loyalty to anyone but themselves. They made that clear during Robert's Rebellion. If they did not faithfully serve their king then, why would they serve him now?

"Did you notice the dagger the killer used?" Ser Rodrik asked. "It's too fine a weapon for such a man. The blade is Valyrian steel, the handle dragonbone. Someone gave it to him."

Robb was seething, his fists clenched by his sides. "They come into our home and try to murder my brother? If its war they want..."

"If it comes to that, you know I'll stand behind you," Theon promised.

"What, is there going to be a battle in the Godswood?" Maester Luwin said, giving both boys a stern stare. "Too easily words of war become acts of war. We don't know the truth yet. Lord Stark must be told of this."

"I don't trust a raven to carry these words," Lady Stark stated.

"I'll ride to Winterfell," Robb said.

Lady Stark shook her head. "No. There must always be a Stark in Winterfell. I will go myself."

"Mother, you can't," Robb argued.

"I must."

* * *

A maid announced Elaena's entry into Lady Stark's room. The Lady of Winterfell's chambers were the second grandest in the castle, trumped only by the Lord of Winterfell's. When Elaena was only six, she sneaked into Lady Stark's chambers after having a terrifying nightmare.

She recalled Lady Stark holding her in her arms, whispering calming words into Elaena's ear. The nightmare, like most of Elaena's nightmares, included Robert Baratheon. For so long when she thought of death, she thought of the king. She was beginning to realise that there were far worst men than King Robert.

Lady Stark's long, red hair was braided into a plait. She smiled when she saw Elaena. Elaena had missed her smile.

"My lady," she greeted, "I've come to say my goodbye."

"It will not be for long," Lady Stark assured her. "I promise you that. But while I am gone, I am trusting you with the running of this household. Robb will need your help."

"I will do you proud," Elaena promised.

She laid a hand on Elaena's shoulder, a motherly smile on her face. "You already have. I remember when Ned brought you home. You were so small and dainty, much like your mother, Princess Elia. When Ned told me that you were a Targaryen... I worried. I thought you would become as mad as your grandfather." Elaena looked at her feet. Lady Stark touched her chin and lifted her gaze to meet hers. "But I see you now, and I am so proud. I raised you as my daughter, and you have never let me down."

"Did you know my mother?" Elaena asked quietly. "Elia Martell... did you know her?"

Lady Stark shook her head. "No. Not very well. But I saw her at the Tourney at Harrenhall. She was very beautiful, and she has only ever been described by those who knew her as kind and loving. She was dutiful too, and brave. When Rhaegar Targaryen crowned Lyanna Stark the Queen of Love and Beauty, she did not cry. She simply kept on smiling. She would have made a great queen."

Elaena felt sadness and regret rush through her. If her mother had lived... if Elaena's father hadn't crowned Lady Lyanna that day, if he had crowned his wife... she would have a family. She would be a princess and the Targaryens would still be the rulers of the Seven Kingdoms. But she would have never known the Starks.

"My mother..." Elaena swallowed back the lump in her throat. "Theon told me that she was killed by the Mountain, after he smashed my brother, Aegon's head against the wall. But before he killed my mother... Theon said that he raped her, with the blood of Aegon on his hands. Is it true?"

Even though Lady Stark had no love for the Targaryens save for Elaena, she seemed disgusted and saddened by the atrocities committed by Gregor Clegane. Her nose crinkled and her lip curled.

"Yes," she said. "And then Gregor Clegane got away with his crimes. His head should have been placed on a pike. Ned was disgusted. He said that the Mountain should be punished, not rewarded."

"And Princess Rhaenys, my sister?" she inquired. "What happened to her?"

"Elaena..."

"Please, Lady Stark," Elaena urged. "I want to know."

She sighed heavily and sat down at the end of her bed, but nonetheless, she answered her ward. "Very well. Princess Rhaenys hid in her father's bedroom, under his bed, but Ser Amory Lorch, a bannerman of House Lannister, found her and dragged her from underneath the bed. He..." Lady Stark sucked in a deep breath and gave Elaena an unsure look. Elaena nodded, urging her to continue. "He stabbed her. They say he stabbed her half a hundred times."

Elaena felt the need to vomit. Rhaenys had been three at the time, an innocent baby. What kind of man would butcher a child?

"You said that they were bannermen of House Lannister," she concluded. "That means that a Lannister had to give the order."

Lady Stark nodded. "The Lannisters are monsters, Elaena, and they will be stopped."

Her vision was blurred by tears. Anger raced through her. Tywin Lannister gave the order, and the Mountain killed her mother. And Robert Baratheon did not punish any of them.

"Make them suffer," she almost growled.

Lady Stark was taken aback. Elaena was not a vengeful or angry person, but she was so full of rage that she couldn't control her temper. A temper she didn't know she had.

Once she had collected herself, Lady Stark nodded. "They will. I promise you, Elaena. They will pay for their crimes."

* * *

**_Author's Note: _**_Ooh, revenge! Hope you guys liked the chapter, and don't forget to tell me what you think!_


	5. Below My Feet

**Below My Feet**

The sun shone through the window and into Elaena's room. She groaned as it blinded her, and covered her eyes with her sheets. She heard someone entering her room, but didn't look up. She was tired and wrecked. Being the acting Lady of Winterfell was a strenuous job, she didn't know how Lady Stark did it.

"My lady."

Elaena recognised Tala's voice. "What is it?" she groaned, her face buried into the pillow.

"Lord Bran has woken."

Her fatigue suddenly left her as she sat up in her bed. "What?"

"He woke last night," Tala said. "The Maester told me to tell you. He's in his chambers, my lady."

She dressed quickly, not even bothering to brush her hair. The castle seemed more joyful. The residents of Winterfell would walk mournfully after Bran fell, but now they chatted and laughed with their peers. Her pace quickened to a run as she approached Bran's room.

The little lord sat in his bed, stroking his direwolf's fur. Elaena's face broke into a smile when she saw him. "I've decided on a name," he stated.

"Oh?" Elaena asked.

"Summer," he told her.

She wondered what he had been dreaming of. "Its a brilliant name," she said, sitting on the chair beside him. "How are you?"

"I'll never walk," he whispered sadly.

Elaena held his hand in hers and gave him a smile. "But you're alive," she said. "We were all so worried, Bran. We thought... we thought you wouldn't make it."

"I wish I hadn't," he muttered under his breath.

She gaped. "Bran!" she exclaimed, shocked. "Don't say that! Don't you _ever_ say that!"

"I'm a _cripple_," Bran spat. "I'll never walk. I'll never ride or fight. I might as well be dead."

Lady Stark had been correct. The loss of use in his legs had left Bran wishing he was dead. _He's much too young to wish himself dead. Much too innocent. _Elaena shook her head at him.

"No," she sternly said. "You're alive. Which means that the gods have some sort of plan for you. I'm sure that we will find a way for you to ride a horse and to fight. Nothing is impossible."

Bran scoffed and fell back into his bed. "It _is _impossible."

"Even if it is," Elaena began, "you still have a purpose. Focus on your lessons. Fighting isn't the only way to achieve greatness."

"But it was the way _I_ wanted to!" Bran shouted desperately. "I wanted to be a knight! What kind of knight can't even wield a sword?"

"Bran, please," she begged. "You might not be able to fight or to be a knight, and for that I am truly sorry. But you can do so many things with your life."

"Like what?" he asked, disbelieving.

"Like..." She thought of what she could do to make him feel better. There wasn't many things that would interest a boy of his age, and she had to use her imagination. "In a few more years, we'll go to Sunspear. My mother's brother is the ruling Prince of Dorne, I'm sure he'll welcome us." Bran's face brightened and she knew she had picked the right topic. "And we'll go to the Wall. Jon said that you could visit him. I'm sure he would be happy to see you. Maybe we could go to King's Landing as well, to see your lord father and your sisters. And Essos... we'll see the Free Cities. We'll go from the west to the east, and we'll write about everything that we see. About all of the different cultures, and the towns and cities."

He looked excited and less sullen. "Do you promise?"

She wasn't sure if she actually would. She had always wanted to go to Dorne, and to visit Jon at the Wall, but she wouldn't be welcome in King's Landing. Travelling through Essos appealed to her too, although she knew it wouldn't be safe. Lord Stark always said to never make a promise unless you were sure you could keep it, but Elaena didn't want to let Bran down. He was so sad... and now he was so happy with the prospect of escaping.

Elaena nodded. "I promise."

"Can I come with you?" They both turned to see Robb at the threshold. "The thought of leaving all responsibility behind sounds very appealing."

"Your lord father would be disappointed," Elaena pointed out.

Robb sighed. He looked much older. His face was tired and worn, and his duties as the Lord Winterfell were taking their toll on him.

"I need to speak with Elaena about something," he said. "It's urgent."

Bran nodded. Elaena ruffled his hair before leaving with Robb.

"Men from the Night's Watch will be staying here," Robb told her. "They're heading down South. Will you make the arrangements?"

Elaena nodded her agreement and asked, "How many?"

"I'd say ten at the most," he said. "And they won't expect much. Just a bed and a few meals. Men from the Wall aren't as fancy and demanding as the Lannisters."

"That's good," Elaena agreed. "The royal visit costed us quite a bit. When will they be here?"

"A couple of hours," Robb reported. "The raven was slow."

"I'll get the rooms ready as quick as I can," she said. "And a dinner. They must be hungry."

Robb nodded and left her to her errands. She spoke with the servants first, telling them to organise ten rooms. She didn't want to risk leaving one man sleeping in the stables. She then went down to the kitchens and told them they would be making ten extra dinners in the evening and ten extra breakfasts in the morning.

She joined Robb in the main hall when it was time to greet their guests. It came as a shock to her when Tyrion Lannister was among the men coming from the Wall. _Has he taken the Black? No. The cold would take him within a week._

"I must say, I received a slightly warmer welcome on my last visit," Lord Tyrion remarked.

It was certainly true. Robb was rather hostile towards the dwarf. He glared down on Tyrion Lannister from his father's seat.

"Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome at Winterfell," Robb announced, and the men from the Night's Watch nodded gratefully to him.

"Any man of the Night's Watch... but not I, eh, boy?" the Imp concluded.

"I am not your boy, Lannister," he replied. "I am Lord of Winterfell while my father is away."

"Then you might learn a lord's courtesy," Lord Tyrion suggested.

Hodor, the stable boy, carried Bran into the hall. The Imp examined him. "So, it's true," he said thoughtfully. "Hello, Bran. Do you remember anything about what happened?"

"He has no memory of that day," Maester Luwin spoke.

"Curious..."

"Why are you here?" Robb asked, and for a moment Elaena forgot that he was six and ten.

Lord Tyrion ignored him. "Would your charming companion be so kind as to kneel?" he said to Bran. "My neck is beginning to hurt."

"Kneel, Hodor," Bran commanded.

Hodor lowered Bran and fell onto his knees. "Do you like to ride, Bran?" the Imp asked.

"Yes," he answered. "Well, I mean, I _did _like to."

"The boy has lost the use of his legs," Maester Luwin informed.

"What of it?" Lord Tyrion exclaimed. "With the right horse and saddle, even a cripple can ride."

Bran glowered at the Imp. "I'm not a cripple."

"Then I am not a dwarf," he quipped. "My father will rejoice to hear it!" The corners of Bran's mouth twitched upwards into what could be perceived as a smile. "I have a gift for you." Lord Tyrion pulled out a piece of paper and gave it to Bran. "Give that to your saddler. He'll provide the rest. You must shape the horse to the rider. Start with a yearling and teach it to respond to the reins and to the boy's voice."

Hope shone from Bran's eyes. Elaena prayed that he wouldn't be let down. "Will I really be able to ride?" he asked hopefully.

"You will," Lord Tyrion affirmed. "On horseback you will be as tall as any of them."

Robb was still doubtful, as was Elaena. "Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?"

Lord Tyrion smiled slightly. "I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things."

That seemed to quell Robb's doubt, but it didn't quell Elaena's. Lannisters were not to be trusted. She was especially doubtful of them after what Lady Stark had told her of the Sack of King's Landing. They were monsters, the whole lot of them.

"You've done my brother a kindness," Robb said. "The hospitality of Winterfell is yours."

The Imp rolled his eyes. "Spare me your false courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls. There I'll find a bed and both of us can sleep easier."

Robb nodded to him. Lord Tyrion spun around and toddled out of the hall. If there was a Lannister she could like, Lord Tyrion would be the best bet. He didn't seem as harsh as his brother or sister, or as fake. With the queen, one was always afraid of turning around in case she buried a dagger in one's back. But while the burying of daggers in one's back was only metaphorical in her case, it was not in the Kingslayer's.

Theon followed Lord Tyrion into the yard. "I wonder what they're going to speak about," Elaena said to Robb.

"Brothels most likely," Robb replied.

They joined Bran in his room. He was so excited and, while Elaena was delighted that he was no longer as sad and sullen, she feared that he would be disappointed.

"I will be able to ride!" he exclaimed happily. "You were right, Elaena, what you said before! It's not impossible!"

Elaena smiled. "No, it isn't."

She couldn't ruin his joy. Bran deserved to be happy. Perhaps she was being paranoid, but didn't she have the right to be?

_Never trust a Lannister. _The words echoed in her head.

* * *

Theon aimed his arrow at the target. He was good at archery, Elaena would give him that. He rarely ever missed and when he did, it was only by a few inches. Bran, who was supposed to be studying with Maester Luwin, was staring at him enviously.

Maester Luwin tapped a pointer on a map of Westeros. Bran glanced down at it. "The Iron Islands. Sigil – a Kraken. Words – 'We do not sow.'"

"Lords?"

"The Greyjoys."

Theon turned around, having shot his arrow perfectly in the middle of the target. "Famed for their skills at archery, navigation and lovemaking," he said with a laugh.

"And failed rebellions," Elaena mumbled cheekily, looking back down at her book.

It was about Aegon the Conqueror. Her obsession with her dragon eggs had sparked once again following a dream of a black and red dragon emerging from a pyre. Elaena's ancestors had dragons, but how did they hatch them? Although, her dragons had turned to stone over the centuries. It would be much more difficult to hatch frozen eggs.

The Kraken boy narrowed his eyes at Elaena. "And the Targaryens? What are they famed for?" He laughed cruelly. "Oh, yes. Madness and burning themselves alive. What a great house you hail from, Lady Elaena."

"Theon," he scolded, just as Elaena was about to bite back. Theon went back to practising archery. There was something about Theon lately that made her blood boil. She had tolerated him before, but following his attitude with her that day... everything he did made her mad. "Come on, Bran."

He tapped on another location on the map.

"Sigil – a stag," Bran answered. "A crowned stag now that Robert's King."

"Good," the Maester complimented.

"Words – 'Ours is the fury,'" he continued. "Lords – the Baratheons."

Maester Luwin hummed his approval and tapped on a location on the west of the map.

"The Westerlands," Bran said. "Words – 'A Lannister pays his debts.'"

The Maester shook his head. "No. A common saying, but not their official motto."

"Lords – the Lannisters..." he went on, but Luwin was having none of it.

"We're still on their words."

Bran glared at the map. "I don't know them."

"You do know them," Maester Luwin assured. "_Think_."

"'Unbowed, Unbent, Unbroken.'"

Elaena smiled, glancing up from her book. "That's House Martell. My mother's family."

He wasn't in good humour that day. He was rarely ever in good humour since his fall. "'Righteous in Wrath' then," Bran suggested.

Luwin shook his head. "House Hornwood."

"'Family, Duty, Honour.'"

"Those are Tully words," the Maester said. "Your mother's. Are we playing a game?"

"'Family, Duty Honour...'" Bran repeated. "Is that the right order?"

The Maester was watching Bran curiously. He was getting angrier as he continued to speak. "You know it is," he responded.

"Family comes first?" Bran spat.

Elaena laid a hand on his. "Your mother left to protect the family," she told him. "She wouldn't have-"

"How can she _protect _the family, if she is not _with _her family?" he asked, scraping a broach with a fish on it against the wooden table.

"Bran, you know your mother loves you," Elaena assured him. "She sat by your bed for three weeks. She wouldn't eat, and she barely slept."

He pulled his hand from underneath hers. "And then she left!"

"When you were born," the Maester began, "I was the one who pulled you from your mother. I placed you in her arms. From that moment until the moment she dies, she will love you. Absolutely. Fiercely."

"Why did she leave?" Bran inquired yet again. He had been asking since he woke, but no one could answer him. They all promised Lady Stark.

"I still can't tell you, but she will be home soon," Maester Luwin promised.

"Do you know where she is now?" Bran asked. "Today?"

Maester Luwin shook his head. "No. I don't."

"Does Elaena?" he said, turning his head over to her. "Do you, Elaena?"

She wondered what he was getting at. "No," she admitted. "No one has heard from your mother since she left. But she will be back before you know it."

She gave him a smile that he did not return. "Then how can either of you promise me she'll be home soon?"

He had a good point. For all they knew, Lady Stark could have been ambushed. But she was a strong woman, and she had Ser Rodrik with her. Elaena believed that she would come home unharmed.

"Sometimes I worry you're too smart for your own good," Maester Luwin stated, shaking his head.

Bran looked up and towards Theon. All of his arrows had reached the red target. Elaena felt sorry for Bran. He wore a sorrowful expression as he stared at Theon doing what he could never do again.

"I'll never shoot another arrow," he said sadly.

"And where is that written?" Maester Luwin asked.

"You need legs to work a bow."

"Hm..." Luwin said thoughtfully. "If the saddle Lord Tyrion designed actually works, you could learn to shoot a bow from horseback."

"Really?" Bran exclaimed excitedly.

"Dothraki boys learn when they're four years old," he said. "Why shouldn't you?"

Bran smiled.

* * *

Robert was attending a small council meeting.

_Robert Baratheon._

Ned had never seen such a shocking sight. He was sure that Robert hadn't attended a small council meeting in years. He left the ruling of his country in the hands of the small council while he drank, ate and slept with women that were not his wife.

Beside Robert sat the spider, a plump and mischievous man. Maester Pycelle, Lord Renly, Robert's polished younger brother, and Littlefinger were present at the meeting.

"The whore is pregnant," Robert told him.

"You're speaking of murdering a child," Ned replied.

"I warned you this would happen," he said. "Back in the North. I warned you, but you didn't care to hear. Well, hear it now. I want 'em dead. Mother and child, both. And that fool, Viserys, as well. Is that plain enough for you? I want them both dead."

"You will dishnour yourself forever if you do this," Ned warned.

"_Honour_?" Robert shouted angrily, his face red with fury. "I've got Seven Kingdoms to rule! One king... Seven Kingdoms. Do you think honour keeps them in line? Do you think it's honour that's keeping the peace? It's fear... fear and blood. I let you talk me into sparing one Targaryen girl, and I've regretted it everyday since. They're monsters, the whole lot them. They should all be dead!"

"Then you're no better than the Mad King."

"Careful, Ned," he said, disgusted at the comparison between him and the king he had fought to depose. "Careful, now."

"You want to murder innocent children," Ned accused. "Elaena is nothing like the Mad King, I promise you that."

Robert scoffed. "Until the day she decides that she wants her grandfather's throne. There are people in Westeros who still call me 'Usurper.' They would see me dead, and a Targaryen on the throne."

"She won't," he argued.

The king narrowed his eyes at Ned. "And what of Daenerys Targaryen? She could be as mad as her father! And even if she isn't, her son might be. I can't take that risk."

"You want to assassinate this girl because the Spider heard a rumour?" Ned asked, disbelieving.

"No rumour, my lord," Vary assured them. "The princess is with child."

"Based on whose information?"

"Ser Jorah Mormont," the Spider answered. "He is serving as an advisor to the Targaryens."

Ned recognised the name. Ser Jorah was supposed to be beheaded for selling poachers to a slaver, but he escaped before his sentence could be carried out.

"Mormont?" he repeated. "You bring us the whispers of a traitor half a world away and call it fact?"

"Jorah Mormont's a slaver, not a traitor," Littlefinger said. He raised his hands up in defence when he received Ned's icy glare. "Small difference, I know, to an honourable man."

"He broke the law, betrayed his family, fled our land," Ned said. "We commit murder on the word of this man?"

"And if he's right?" Robert asked, raising his voice. "If she has a son? A Targaryen at the head of a Dothraki army. What then?"

Ned was still unconvinced. The Targaryen girl was leagues away, and the Dothraki would not cross water. "The Narrow Sea still lies between us. I'll fear the Dothraki the day they teach their horses to run on water."

"Do nothing?" Robert spat. "That's your wise advice? Do nothing until our enemies are on our shores?" He looked to the other members of the small council. "You're my council. _Counsel_! Speak sense to this honourable fool."

The spider spoke first. "I understand your misgivings, my lord. Truly, I do. It is a terrible thing we must consider; a vile thing. Yet, we who presume to rule must sometimes do vile things for the good of the realm. Should the gods grant Daenerys a son, the realm will bleed."

"I bear this girl no ill will." Maester Pycelle spoke next. "But should the Dothraki invade, how many innocents will die? How many towns will burn? Is it not wiser, kinder even, that she should die now so that tens of thousands might live?"

"We should have had them both killed years ago," Renly insisted. "Elaena Targaryen was raised by you, in your own home. She was not corrupted by ambitious tongues."

"When you find yourself in bed with an ugly woman..." Lord Varys rolled his eyes at Littlefinger's metaphor, and Ned found himself doing the same. Only Littlefinger could compare killing an innocent child to bedding a woman. "Best close your eyes, get it over with. Cut her throat. Be done with it."

The men at the table were ambitious, slimy men, Ned knew it, but he had not thought them capable of agreeing with the murder of a girl and her unborn child. Even Littlefinger, the most lecherous of all, had surprised him.

Ned approached the them and rested his hands on the table. He leaned forward towards his king. "I followed you into war – _twice –_ without doubts, without second thoughts, but I will not follow you now. The Robert I grew up with didn't tremble at the shadow of an unborn child."

Fury shone bright in Robert's eyes. He was at his most angry when discussing Targaryens. "She dies," he stated firmly.

"I will have no part in it," Ned argued.

"You're the King's Hand, Lord Stark. You'll do as I command or I'll find me a hand who will."

Ned clenched his jaw. He would not be apart of the murder of an innocent child. He took off his pin and tossed it towards Robert. He never wanted the damn thing, he didn't care if he lost it.

"And good look to him," Ned said. "I thought you were a better man."

Robert rose from his seat. "Out!" he roared. "Out, damn you! I'm done with you!" Ned bowed slightly before turning around and leaving, but Robert's shouts followed him out of the room. "Go! Run back to Winterfell! I'll have your head on a spike! I'll put it there myself, you fool! You think you're too good for this? Too proud and honourable? This is war!"

And war had causalities. He would not add a girl and her unborn babe to the list.

* * *

_**Review, favourite and follow!**_


	6. Burn the Pages

**Burn the Pages**

Robb scanned the letter given to him by Maester Luwin. The Lannister's seal was stamped on the front. _What do they want now? They've already crippled Bran and tried to kill him. What could they possibly want?_

She watched him worriedly. Robb's expression darkened as he finished reading the letter. He placed it in front of him.

"What is it?" Theon asked from behind Elaena.

"Jaime Lannister ambushed my father and his household," Robb told them. "He killed his guard and injured my father. The queen says that it's because Lady Stark took the Imp captive. They want him back."

"The Imp is answering for his crimes," Theon stated. "He crippled Bran, now he's answering for his crimes. Where did Lady Stark take the halfman anyway?"

"To the Vale," Luwin answered. "To her sister, Lysa Tully. There was another raven this morning, but I thought this was a more pressing matter."

Robb nodded in agreement. He was in a daze, staring at the burning candle in the centre of the room. Lord Stark had picked a terrible time to leave Winterfell. He was needed there, now more than ever. Robb was trying his best, but he was too young. Too inexperienced.

"We should write to Lady Stark," Elaena said. "Inform her of the situation. We have to return Lord Tyrion to the Lannisters."

Theon's gaze snapped towards her. He narrowed his eyes at her. "No, we don't. The Lannister shit is the reason why Bran is crippled."

"If he is the reason why Bran is crippled, then why did he design a saddle so he could ride again?" Theon had no answer to that. Elaena resisted the urge to smirk, and turned to Robb. "Your father and sisters are in King's Landing, Robb. Robert Baratheon may be the king, but Lannisters dominate the Red Keep. We can't risk angering them."

"So, what?" Theon demanded. "We let the Lannister's kill our men and maim our lord?" He turned to Robb. "We can't let them get away with this. Show them some Northern fury. Call the banners, Robb, avenge the deaths of your father's men."

"Careful, Theon Greyjoy," Maester Luwin warned. "You speak bold words, but we should not start a war so easily. Thousands will die, and Lord Stark and his daughters will be taken hostage."

Theon scoffed. "What would you have us do? Lick Lannister arse?"

"There is no 'us', Theon," Robb spoke. "This is not your house." The corners of Elaena's lips twitched upwards in a smirk. She quickly concealed it. "But we will not return the Imp. My mother will see to it that justice is served."

Although he was a Lannister, Elaena did not think that it was he who crippled Bran. Why would he design a saddle for Bran if he wanted him dead? She was sure that someone was behind his fall. Bran never fell.

"Will you call the banners?" Elaena asked.

He furrowed his eyebrows together, deep in thought. Finally, he looked up and gave his answer. "No. Not yet."

* * *

Hodor lifted Bran onto the saddle. The saddle Lord Tyrion had designed seemed to work. Straps bound his legs onto it, and it looked safe enough. Robb and Theon were bringing him into the woods for a ride. Elaena feared for him.

"Be careful," she said to Robb, who was feeding Grey Wind. "The straps could break and he could fall."

Robb smiled. "He'll be fine. I'll make sure of it."

"And make sure he doesn't wander too far on his own," Elaena warned. "There's been more wildling ambushes as of late than ever before."

He laid his hand on Elaena's shoulder. "He'll be fine," he repeated. "You worry too much. You're beginning to sound like my mother."

Elaena smiled. "Your mother is a most sensible woman."

"Indeed she is." Robb sighed. "I wish she was here. I don't have a clue about being a lord. I don't know what to do with Bran either."

"She'll be home soon," Elaena said. "Once issue with Lord Tyrion is settled, she will come home and she will help you. But for the time being, I'm afraid you're stuck with me."

"I don't mind being stuck with you," he replied, giving her a smile. "We'll be back before midday."

She gave him a nod and he headed off with Theon and Bran, into the woods. Elaena knew that Bran was in good hands, and Robb and Theon were both armed, but she had a feeling in her gut. _Something bad is going to happen. I know it. _But what could she do about it? Bran was laughing and smiling, she couldn't order him to stay simply because she had a 'bad feeling'.

The boys' absence in Winterfell made the castle feel lonely. The only company she had was Rickon, but he was only three. They played with his direwolf, Shaggydog, in the yard. Shaggydog was the wildest of all the direwolves, but Elaena knew that he would never harm Rickon. Direwolves were fiercely loyal to their owners. They would never turn on them.

"Where's Mother gone?" he asked her suddenly as Shaggydog ran to fetch the ball Rickon had thrown. "She hasn't been home for a while now. I want her here."

Elaena sighed and knelt beside him. She pushed his wild curls away from his face. "I know you do. Your mother will come home, little wolf. I cannot tell you when, only that she will."

"I want her now!" Rickon exclaimed, stomping his foot. "I want my mother back! And Father, and Sansa, and Arya! They all left. It's not fair!"

Tears streamed down his cheeks. Silently, Elaena wrapped her arms around him, but Rickon struggled free from her hold and turned his back on her. He folded his arms together and 'humphed'.

"Rickon..." she began, sighing.

Just as she was about to try to comfort Rickon, Robb, Bran and Theon entered Winterfell. There was a cut on Bran's leg and the three boys looked dishevelled. Theon was dragging a woman through the gates. Elaena jumped up, rushing over to them.

"What happened?" she asked worriedly, glancing to Bran.

"We were attacked by wildlings," Theon answered. He pulled the woman's hair roughly, causing her to cry out. "Bran killed this one's friends, but Robb decided to let the wildling bitch live."

"Watch your tongue, Theon," Robb reprimanded. He was carrying Bran in his arms.

Bran shot Theon a look. "I didn't kill anyone."

"We have to get him upstairs," Robb said. "Maester Luwin can tend to his wounds."

"It doesn't hurt," Bran told them. "I'll be okay."

"It might get infected, Bran," Elaena said. "Better safe than sorry."

Robb carried Bran up to his room and laid him on his bed. The Maester arrived quickly, bringing various ointments and herbs. He dipped his finger into a jar and coated the bright red wound with the clear substance. Elaena remembered when she cut her knee. The ointment stung and made her cry. Bran didn't even wince. He truly didn't have any feeling in his legs.

"The wildling woman," Elaena said, looking at Robb. "What do you plan to do with her?"

He sighed and ran his fingers through his auburn hair. "I don't know. Perhaps she can work in the kitchens."

Elaena's eyes widened. "Are you serious?" she said, shocked. "She's a _wildling_. And she attacked Bran."

"What would you have me do, then?" Robb snapped. "Behead her? Enough blood has been spilled today."

She flinched at his tone, though she quickly concealed it. "You can't trust her," she stated. "She invaded your lands. She wanted to kill your brother!"

"No," Robb said, shaking his head. "No. I don't think the wildlings truly wanted to kill him. Granted, they would have." Elaena twisted her face in confusion. "They wanted to go south. They said that there were no White Walkers in Dorne."

"So there are White Walkers beyond the Wall?" Bran asked, fear flashing in his Tully blue eyes. "Old Nan's stories are true."

"No, they're not," Elaena asserted. "There are no White Walkers anywhere. They might have existed once, but they don't exist now."

"History speaks of dragons," Robb said. "History speaks of White Walkers. You have three dragon eggs. Whose to say that White Walkers aren't as real as dragons?"

"And like dragons, White Walkers are _dead_," she stressed. "Long dead. An ancient tale, by now."

She didn't want to think for a moment that White Walkers were real. If they invaded Westeros, they would all be doomed. Old Nan told them of the Long Night when they were children, and Elaena had never heard anything so frightening. She didn't want to think for a moment that history could repeat itself.

"Wait, you have dragon eggs?" Bran exclaimed. Excitement danced in his eyes.

She gave Robb a venomous look, to which he replied with a sheepish smile. Interest had sparked in Maester Luwin as well, as he had stopped gathering his vials and stared at her in wonder. There was no use in lying. She had never been any good at lying.

"I have three," she admitted. A smile broke out on Bran's face. "They were sent from my uncle, Viserys, from across the Narrow Sea."

"Why would he send you such a valuable gift?" Maester Luwin asked.

She looked at the floor. "Because he wanted to remind me of which side I was supposed to be on."

Maester Luwin nodded in understanding. "Does Lord Stark know?"

"Yes, he does," she said. "He was there when I opened the note and when I opened the chest. He told me to burn the note, so I did. And he told me to hide the eggs. They are hidden beneath my bed."

"That's not very clever," Bran blurted. "Anyone could find them there."

"Why would anyone look?" Elaena said.

She knew she should have come up with a better hiding place, but she didn't want them to be inaccessible. She liked having them beneath her while she slept, and she liked looking at them before she went to sleep.

Robb stood. "I should find Theon. He's probably with the wildling girl."

Elaena rose and gripped his hand before he left. "Be careful."

He smiled. "I always am."

Giving her hand a tight squeeze, he left the room. Maester Luwin packed his things and followed him out. Bran was sitting up in his bed, looking at her as though she was the Mother reborn.

"Can I see the eggs someday?" he asked eagerly. "I've never seen dragon eggs before."

She laughed. "I don't suppose many people have. And yes, I'll happily show them to you, but you have to promise not to tell anyone. If Robert Baratheon finds out... he'll think that I'm planning to hatch them and burn down the Seven Kingdoms."

"Are you?"

"No!" she exclaimed. "Of course not! Why does everyone think that I want to burn down Westeros?"

Bran smiled. "I meant hatching the eggs."

"Oh," Elaena said. "Well, I would love to. Dragons haven't soared the skies in over a century. It would be amazing to be the one to bring them back. But I don't see how I can. The secrets of dragons have been lost with time. Nobody decided to record how the Targaryens hatched their dragons, so I have nothing to go on."

"Maybe someday you'll know," Bran replied.

She nodded, smiling at the thought. "Maybe someday I will."

* * *

"Robert Baratheon is dead."

Elaena stopped eating, and lowered her spoon slowly before placing it beside the plate. The first emotion she felt was relief. And then guilt for feeling relieved. But Robert Baratheon killed her father, and he didn't punish those who killed her mother and siblings.

He was one of the few in Westeros whose death brought Elaena relief, or even happiness. He wanted her dead when she was a baby, and if it hadn't been for Lord Stark, she wouldn't have made it to a day old.

"How?" Theon asked, the first to speak. "Did he finally drink himself to death?"

"_Theon Greyjoy_," the old maester scolded sharply/ "I though I taught you better than to disrespect your king."

"He's not king anymore," Theon pointed out. "That little twit Joffrey is the king now." He turned to Robb. "So, how did he die?"

Robb was rereading the letter. "Mauled by a bear."

Theon snorted. "Probably drank too much wine."

She stared at her plate. Robert Baratheon was dead. The sentence rang in her ears, and she had to keep repeating it so that it remained _real_. His death made her feel safe, as horrible as it was. That night, she wouldn't dream of when Robert Baratheon finally decided to kill her. She finally felt _free_.

Elaena could feel Robb's eyes on her, and snapped her eyes from her plate and to him. "Is there anything else in the letter?" she asked.

Robb scanned it quickly. "No. Nothing worth mentioning."

_Robert Baratheon is dead._

_Robert Baratheon is dead._

She sighed in relief.

* * *

_The place smelt of burning flesh. A lion's roar filled the air as Elaena walked closer to the source of the smell. She was in the north, or perhaps in Riverrun, but she was warm; unbelievably warm. The weather was supposed to be cold, and Elaena had known nothing but the cool chill of the North, so why did her skin sweat from the heat?_

_She heard the clashing of swords. Two men fought, their animals beside them. A lion and a wolf, the men's pets, fought each other, going for the other's throat. Beside them, two stags battled each other, tackling with their antlers. One of the stags disappeared in a poof of air, while the other glared at Elaena._

_A sharp whine came from her left. She spun around and walked in the direction of the noise. It seemed to be coming from the same direction as the burning flesh. Bodies appeared the floor, bloody and bruised. She couldn't recognise the faces, but she could tell that they were soldiers by the swords that had fallen a feet from their broken bodies._

_She stepped over their bodies, feeling cruel and ruthless, but she had to reach her goal. Something told her that the source of the burning flesh and the screaming animal was important. She felt drawn to it, as though she was being pulled towards it._

_Her body heated, and she saw a burning pyre in the distance. A man screamed as the flames took him. A few feet from the pyre, there was a pen, with a lion chained to the post. A hundred men had gathered to watch the man burn. Was he the source of the screams? But the man roared, and his voice was deep. Then his roars stopped, and Elaena had never experienced anything so haunting._

_"Blood births life," a woman whispered into her ear. Elaena looked to see who the woman was, but there was no one behind her._

_The fire died down once the man was dead. A dragon, with scales of black and wings of red, flew from the ashes. Elaena's breath was caught in her throat. A dragon... but all the dragons were dead. Then, two more dragons emerged from the flames. One of the dragons had green and bronze scales, and the other had scales of cream and horns, wing bones and a spinal crest of gold._

_They were magnificent and frighteningly beautiful. In all her dreams of dragons, none of them were quite as amazing as the three that soared through the sky now. It felt so real._

_The black dragon landed in front of her, large and fierce. His eyes were as red as blood, and Elaena found herself becoming lost in them. She reached towards him, intending to place her hand on his snout, to prove to herself that he was real, but the black dragon flew away from her before she could and rejoined his siblings in the sky._

_The dragons roared and opened their mouths. They breathed fire, and engulfed the camp site in red and orange flames._

_As the flames crept near, Elaena prepared herself for death. But the flames did not harm her._

She jumped awake, clutching her blankets. She was in her room, in Winterfell, safe and sound. There were no dragons, and Elaena felt somewhat disappointed. It was a strange dream. Everything was so... odd. The lions fighting the wolves, the stags fighting each other, she even felt odd in her own skin. Her thoughts were not her own. The girl she was in her dream was not her.

The Targaryens of old had prophetic dreams that told the future. Aenar Targaryen's maiden daughter predicted the Doom of Valyria, and her visions saved her family. Maybe her dreams could come true... Perhaps not all of them, as Robert Baratheon would have killed her during his visit if they were all true.

She didn't have to worry about Robert Baratheon any more. He was dead. A heavy load was lifted from Elaena's shoulder when the maester read the letter. She would not wish someone dead, nor would she seek pleasure from their death, but Robert Baratheon's death came her a sense of freedom. A sense of safety.

_Dragons emerging from flames... what am I to make of this? _She had lain her dragon eggs in the fire before, and nothing had happened. They did not burn, but they didn't hatch either.

She got out of her bed and knelt on the floor. The chest was where it always was. Tala hadn't discovered it yet, and Elaena was sure she never would. She was a kind woman, but she was not intelligent.

Elaena pulled the chest from under her bed and opened the latch. The scales on the three dragons had been identical to the colours of the eggs. It couldn't have been a coincidence.

She remembered the man bound to the pyre, and his loud roars. Was a sacrifice required to wake her dragons? Elaena didn't think she had the strength to kill an innocent man, even if it meant that she could bring dragons back to the world.

Her fingers traced the black egg in the middle. He had been the biggest, the most fierce, but the white and gold dragons had been the most beautiful, the most magnificent.

In her dream, the fire had engulfed her, but it did not burn her. Tales said that Targaryens were immune to fire, but many Targaryens had been burned to death, and many were obsessed with flames. The Mad King loved fire, and Elaena had to admit that she found fire beautiful. Did that make her mad? Did it make her as mad as Aerys Targaryen?

The door creaked open. Quickly, Elaena closed the chest and pushed it beneath the bed. She stood, brushing the dust from her nightgown.

Tala smiled at her, but looked her up and down suspiciously. "My lady. I expected you to be sleeping. It's time for breakfast."

Elaena nodded, her cheeks flushed. Tala helped her get ready, fastened her gown and brushed her hair. She was up late last night with Bran, telling him stories of dragons and Targaryens. Bran loved listening to stories about the Targaryens, and Elaena loved telling him stories of their family.

She was breaking her fast with Theon and Robb when the maester came in, holding a letter in his hand.

"My lord," he said and Robb stood. "There has been a raven."

He offered Robb the letter. She knew by the solemn look on Maester Luwin's face that it was bad news. Robb seemed disturbed as he read the letter, and Elaena prepared herself for the worst.

"Treason?" Robb said disbelievingly, looking up from the letter. "Sansa wrote this?"

"It is your sister's hand, but the queen's words," Maester Luwin replied grimly. "You're summoned to King's Landing to swear fealty to the new king."

Robb's nostrils flared. "Joffrey puts my father in chains and now he wants his arse kissed?"

"This is a royal command, my lord. If you should refuse to obey..."

He seemed to stand a foot taller than usual. When had he grown up? "I won't refuse. His Grace summons me to King's Landing, I'll go to King's Landing, but not alone." He crumpled the letter and handed it Maester Luwin. "Call the banners." Theon grinned, obviously pleased at the thought of war. Elaena pressed her lips in a thin line. War was dangerous. Thousands would die.

"All of them, my lord?" the maester inquired.

"They've all sworn to defend my father, have they not?"

He nodded. "They have."

"Now we'll see what their words are worth."

Maester Luwin smiled. Elaena knew that he wasn't smiling at the idea of war. The maester was sensible, kind and wise, and he realised that war was necessary this time. If he thought that it was necessary, then Elaena did too.

He left to write the letters, and Robb sat down beside Theon at the table. "Are you afraid?" Theon asked him.

Robb raised his shaking hand from beneath the table and looked at it. "I must be."

"Good," Theon said seriously. He wasn't smirking or grinning any more. It was the first time that Elaena had seen him act seriously.

"How is that good?" Robb questioned.

"It means you're not stupid."

He looked to Elaena. "You haven't said anything. Do you think I'm being stupid?" The question was directed at her, she knew, but she chose not to answer, choosing instead to stare at her lap. "Do you think I'm a fool for starting a war?"

She glanced up at him. He wanted her reassurance. Robb was scared, like any boy going to war would be.

Her hand rested on his, giving it a tight squeeze. "You're doing what you have to for your family. The war has already been started, Robb. You're just the one whose calling the banners."

* * *

_**Author's Note: **Sorry about the long wait! Hope you liked the new chapter, and don't forget to leave a review!_

_I wrote a prologue for this which explained why Elaena isn't called Visenya and why Rhaegar still left with Lyanna. So basically, Elia became pregnant with Elaena before Rhaegar went off with Lyanna, though she only found out after he left. She sent him a letter telling him that she was pregnant, but Rhaegar didn't answer. I'm going by the theory that they were in love, and that Rhaegar didn't just see her as an incubator. Elia called her daughter Elaena as a 'screw you' to Rhaegar, who wanted a Visenya. _

_Maybe I should have posted the prologue, but I didn't like how it turned out and the characters were OOC. I hope that things aren't too confusing!_

_**Favourite, follow and review. Until next time!**_


	7. Of Wolves and Lions

**Of Wolves and Lions**

The Karstarks were the last to arrive, bringing two thousand men with them. Elaena was going crazy. She had to organise food and beds for the lords staying in the beds. Some lords, like the Greatjon of House Umber, stayed outside with his men. He was a large man, and one of Eddard Stark's most loyal bannermen.

Robb greeted each of them. Lord Karstark was a broad-shouldered, tall man. Elaena had no doubt that, despite his age, he was a capable warrior.

She was planning a feast for that night. Maester Luwin helped her, seeing that she obviously stressed. She felt bad. The maester had his own duties to focus on, he didn't need to be burdened with hers.

"The Umbers and the Glovers don't get on very well, my lady," Maester Luwin informed. "Best not to seat them near each other." Elaena nodded and put Lord Galbart Glover at the top of the table, near Robb, and Lord Umber on the opposite end of Robb. "Also, make sure not to put Lady Mormont near Lord Karstark or Lord Bolton. Those men can't stand the company of a fierce woman like her."

Elaena laughed and did as he advised. She had seen Dacey Mormont, the woman was strong and tall. Mormont women weren't like regular women, she had heard, they were taught to stab men with swords, not cloth with needles. Elaena agreed with teaching girls how to use a sword. What good would needlework do her in the future? Would it protect her on the battlefield? Visenya Targaryen, Aegon the Conqueror's sister-wife, knew how to use a sword. If she remembered correctly, its name was Darksister.

Lately, her mind was focused on dragons. Anything would spark her thoughts of them. It distracted her from running the household. She dreamt of the same dream each night, and slowly she began to understand it. She read books about blood sacrifice, which was darkest form of magic, but the most effective.

"Do you believe in magic?" she blurted suddenly.

Maester Luwin raised his eyebrows, shocked at her sudden question. He recovered quickly, and frowned in concentration. "Well... yes and no. I believe that magic once existed, in Old Valyria. The dragonlords used magic to tame their dragons. What remains of magic is slowly fading out. Why do you ask?"

She chewed at her lower lip, unsure of whether or not to tell him. His advise could be useful, but Elaena did not want him to think her a witch, or insane. Or an insane witch. She decided that the positives outweighed the negatives.

"I've been having dreams," she told him. "Of dragons. I've always had them, really. Since I was a girl. But lately... its like they're real."

"What happens in this dreams?" Maester Luwin seemed genuinely interested.

"There was a camp site, and it was warm. Blisteringly warm. Although it seemed as though I was in Riverrun or the North. And there was a lion, a wolf and two stags. The lion and the wolf were fighting each other, while the two stags battled with their antlers. One of the stags disappeared into thin air, and then there was a loud screech. I turned around and walked towards it, and it was the same direction the heat was coming from. There were bodies on the floor, the bodies of soldiers, and I stepped over them all. It was like I was drawn to the source of the heat, like a moth to a flame. The source was pyre, and there was a man bound to it. He was roaring, but he was not the source of the screeches. The fire died down, as did his cries, and three dragons emerged from the flames. One was black and red, another white and gold and the last was green and bronze, their scales the same colour as my eggs. The black dragon landed in front me and bowed his head, and I went to lay my hand upon it, but then he flew away and joined his siblings in the sky. They opened their mouth and fire engulfed the camp site, and the flames came to engulf me but... I didn't burn."

She stared out the window, although she was lost in the recollection of her dream. Maester Luwin had not interrupted her, and he listened to her every word. It gave her some reassurance. Perhaps she wasn't mad at all.

"Targaryens are supposedly immune to heat," he said. "Although there have been some exceptions. I wouldn't recommend trying this, Elaena. It could simply be a dream."

"But you admit that there is a possibility." Excitement raced through her. "A possibility that my dreams could be a prediction."

He studied her closely. "I have watched you grow in these very halls. I have taught you the history and mother-tongue of your House. I have tended to your wounds and nursed you back to health when you were sick. You are an intelligent and pragmatic young woman, Elaena, and if you think you can hatch dragons then... perhaps you can."

Her expression brightened, but quickly faltered. She had her doubts, she would have to be insane to walk into flames without any thought. She could burn to ashes, and she would be remembered as the Mad Princess, as mad as her grandfather. The woman who danced with the flames and got burned.

"Your dream does have some predictions that have already happened," Maester Luwin observed. "Such as the lions and the wolves fighting each other."

"But that was already on my mind," Elaena argued, though she let his statement give her some hope.

She wouldn't make any rash decisions. Burning to death didn't seem very fun.

Later that evening, she was sitting beside Bran at the feast, with Dacey Mormont on her left. The woman made good company. She was fun and witty and quick to laugh. It was a welcome change to the stoic and solemn demeanour of most of the men and women at Winterfell.

But in the Great Hall tonight, laughter and chatter surrounded Elaena. It was as if everyone had forgotten that in a few nights, they were going to war.

Lord Bolton and Lord Glover both demanded the leadership of the vanguard. Roose Bolton was blunt, while Lord Glover, though not an ambitious, false or cunning man, requested it with a jest and a smile.

The Greatjon was different to the both of them. He was loud, and he was proud.

"For thirty years, I've been making corpses out of men, boy," he said. "I'm the man you want leading the vanguard."

Despite his strong presence and the threatening vibe he gave, Elaena found something likeable about him. He seemed honourable and even quite jolly. But Robb had already promised the leadership of the vanguard to Lord Glover, and an honourable man never went back on his word.

"Galbart Glover will lead the van," Robb stated.

"The bloody Wall will melt before an Umber marches behind an Umber!" the Greatjon bellowed, gesturing to Lord Galbart. He clasped his hands together and leaned towards Robb. "_I _will lead the van or I will take my men and march them home."

Robb looked up, his eyes cold and his expression betraying nothing. Elaena didn't know this Robb. The boy she had grown up with had changed, and he was a man now. He was a lord.

"You are welcome to do so, Lord Umber," he said, his tone threateningly low. He rose from his seat and looked down at the Greatjon. "And when I am done with the Lannisters, I will march back north, root you out of your keep and hang you for an oathbreaker."

The Greatjon bellowed, "Oathbreaker, is it?" He threw his goblet from the table with a swipe of his hand. "I'll not sit here and swallow insults from a boy so green he pisses grass!"

The people in the room had risen. The Greatjon reached for his sword, and Theon Greyjoy reached for his, but before either of them could draw theirs, Grey Wind leaped on the table and jumped on Lord Umber, snarling at the man who dared threaten his master. The Greatjon roared as Grey Wind clawed at him and bit off two of his fingers. Elaena winced slightly at the sound of his flesh tearing.

Lord Umber tried to get onto his feet as Robb spoke. "My lord father taught me that it was death to bare steel against your liege lord. But doubtless, the Greatjon only meant to cut my meat for me."

He kicked his chair over to the corner of the room. Elaena watched him carefully. "Your meat..." He looked around before raising his chewed off fingers. With a slight grin, he continued. "...is bloody tough."

Robb's face formed a smile as the Greatjon chortled, and joined him in his laughter. The whole room was laughing soon enough. Elaena glanced around at the lords, believing herself to be surrounded by psychopaths. Bran seemed as disturbed as she was.

She lent down and whispered into his ear, "The Greatjon is showing us how to tell a joke."

That earned a smile from Bran. Elaena patted his shoulder. She was proud of Robb. The men in the room saw him as a boy, as an inexperience, 'green' boy who had no idea of war. But Robb was intelligent, and he would make a great leader.

His eyes met hers. Elaena gave him a small smile, and Robb gave her a huge grin. She laughed at him, in amusement and awe. How could he laugh at a time like this?

It was the first time she had truly recognised Robb Stark's brilliance.

* * *

"I thought he was going to kill me," Robb confessed when they were alone in Elaena's room. "Gods, and he wasn't the worst of them, only the loudest. Lord Roose never says a word, he only looks at me, and all I can of is that room they have in the Dreadfort, where the Boltons hang the skins of their enemies."

Elaena smiled. "I'm sure that's just one of Old Nan's stories."

"I don't know." He shook his head. The thought of that room was enough to send a shiver down Elaena's spine. "Lord Cerwyn means to take his daughter south with us. To cook for him, he says. Theon is certain I'll find the girl in my bedroll one night."

"You probably will," Elaena said, laughing, even though she was burning with jealousy inside.

_No. Not jealousy. Only protectiveness. He's like a brother to me._

"I wish... I wish my father was here."

The lord she had seen in the Great Hall was a mask. She was sure Robb would grow into that mask, but for now he was still a boy.

She wrapped her arms around him. "I know you do. And that's why you're going to war. You're going to bring back your father and Sansa and Arya. Everything will be okay. It has to be."

"How can you sound so sure?"

"I'm not," she admitted. She pulled away from the embrace. "But we have to hope."

Robb smiled a sad smile. "I wish I could bring you south. You have a way of making a person feel better with only a few words."

"Then bring me," Elaena said. "You're the only one with the objections."

"War is no place for a woman," Robb argued. "What if you got hurt? I could never forgive myself."

She rolled her eyes. "I'm not completely defenceless, you know." Robb raised an amused eyebrow. "I might not be able to use a weapon, but I'm not a daisy." He chuckled. Elaena smacked him on the arm and gave him a stern look. "Stop it! You're mocking me. Don't mock me!"

"Alright, my lovely flower," Robb said, grinning wickedly.

She smacked him again. "I am _not _your lovely flower!" she insisted, smacking him furiously and laughing. "Don't call me a flower! I'm a dragon, remember?"

He grabbed her wrist before she could smack him again, and pulled her closer. "Then tell me, dragon, why do you want to go south?"

"Because you need me," Elaena told him. "Whose going to keep you in line? And you even said it yourself, I have a way with words."

He looked more serious than before. "You might get hurt."

"A wound isn't going to kill me," she said. "But boredom might."

A smile crossed his features. "Fine. You can come south. If you promise to behave."

She scoffed. "Only if you do."

* * *

She arranged for Lord Umber to have his own room while he recovered from the incident. The Greatjon was incessant, stating that he didn't need any green treatment, but he had eventually given in after Maester Luwin lectured him on the dangers of an infected wound.

It wasn't the most extravagant room, but something told Elaena that the Greatjon didn't really care. She decided to visit him and see how he was doing. She swallowed her fears. Lord Umber was honourable, he would not harm her. She was silly for even worrying.

He sat on a chair in the corner of the room, staring at his bandaged finger. He looked up when she walked in. "Ah, Lady Targaryen."

"I came to check how you were doing," she said. "Grey Wind bit off two of your fingers. You must be in some pain."

The Greatjon chuckled. "I've been through worse wounds than this. I'll live." He examined her. Elaena felt uncomfortable under his gaze. Usually when people examined her, it was to see how much she resembled her dead relatives. "I remember the day when Ned and I found you in King's Landing."

Elaena furrowed her eyebrows together. "You were there?" she asked. "Lord Stark never told me."

"Did he tell you anything, girl?" She shook her head. "It was the day of Sack of King's Landing. Gregor Clegane had ruthlessly slaughtered your mother and your brother. A horrible man... Robert should have had him executed. Your mother, Elia Martell, hid you in a drawer, and that oaf of a Mountain never found you. Nobody did until hours later. Ned was the one who spotted you, and he pleaded for your life in front of the king."

"Lord Stark was very kind to me," Elaena said. "Not many lords would have spoken up for a child of a disgraced house like he did."

"No, they wouldn't," the Greatjon replied, a sort of smile on his face. "Ned Stark isn't like most men, though. He never has been." He studied her again, from head to toe, and Elaena shifted uncomfortably. "You remind me of someone I saw at court years ago. Ashara Dayne, your mother's lady-in-waiting and the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms. Ned fancied her, most of the lords did. She had haunting violet eyes, dark hair and creamy skin. I'd believe you to be her daughter if I didn't know better."

_Ashara Dayne. _She heard the name once or twice. There was a rumour once that she was Jon Snow's mother. The rumour was silenced very quickly, and Elaena was sure that Lord Stark had something to do with it.

"What happened to her?"

The Greatjon sighed. "She killed herself. Flung herself from the highest tower in Starfall."

"Why?"

"Ned killed her brother," he told her. "And there was a rumour that she was his lover. If it was true, then her brother's death at the hands of the man she loved would have been more than enough to drive her over the edge. There's a good lesson to be learned from this, girl."

Elaena looked at him questioningly. "What is it?"

He smiled ruefully. "Love may be sweet. Love may be warm. But if you allow it swallow you up, girl, it can be the sweetest poison ever made."

* * *

Elaena felt guilty when she was saying goodbye to Bran. She would be leaving him alone with Rickon. Wanting to stay with Robb wasn't her only reason for going south, she also wanted to see what was south of the Neck.

"So you're leaving too," Bran stated grimly.

She smiled sadly. "Yes. I am. But we'll be back before you know it."

"And write," he demanded. "I want to get letters from you at least once every two weeks."

She laughed and ruffled his hair. "I promise. Where's Rickon?"

"He thinks everyone's leaving him," Bran explained. "He didn't want to say goodbye."

It must be horrible to be so young, and to watch everyone in your family leave. At least Bran had some knowledge as to why they were leaving, he had some sense of duty and honour. Rickon was too young to know of such things.

Elaena worried for him. Rickon was growing wild, as was his direwolf. He hid in the crypts one night with Shaggydog. Robb had men out looking for him, and when they found him Shaggydog ripped out a chunk of Mikken's, the blacksmith's, leg.

"Take care of your brother," she said, and kissed his forehead. She had grown into a maternal figure while Lady Stark was away, and now she was leaving the boys as well. "You're the Lord of Winterfell now."

"I'll do a good job," he promised.

Elaena smiled. "I know you will. Stay safe, Bran."

He gave her one last smile before she mounted her horse and rode off. It was both exciting and heartbreaking to leave Winterfell. It was her home, but she couldn't wait to see what lay beyond the North.

* * *

**_Author's Note: _**_Hope you liked the chapter! It's about to get real from here!_


	8. Fuel to a Fire

**Fuel to a Fire**

On the march south, they stopped in Moat Cailin. It was a large castle, built ten thousand years ago by the First Men. Robb immediately began making plans for battle. They organised their troops and tried to figure out the best war tactics.

He was tired, and Elaena swore he looked ten years older.

She was walking in an open field near Moat Cailin with Dacey Mormont by her side.

"Who taught you how to fight?" Elaena asked the taller woman. Dacey moved with formidable grace for her height.

The question brought a smile to Dacey's face. "My mother. Mormont women learn to fight when most girls play with needles. I don't see why any girl shouldn't learn how to use a sword."

"Your mother is a fierce woman," Elaena commented, smiling at Dacey. "She told Robb that she wouldn't take commands from a boy young enough to be her grandson. He was probably shaking in his boots. I know I would be."

Dacey laughed. "My father was frightened of her too, at first. But then he grew to love her, and she made him bolder."

"Do you have any siblings, Lady Dacey?" Elaena inquired.

"Dacey will do fine," she said. "And yes. I have four sisters. Alysane, Lyra, Jorelle and Lyanna." Elaena smiled. She had always wanted siblings. "You and Lord Robb seem close, if you don't mind me saying."

"We grew up together," Elaena replied. "I can't remember a time when we lived apart."

She gave Elaena a knowing look, which caused her raise an eyebrow in confusion. "I meant 'close-close', my lady."

When she finally caught on, Elaena's jaw dropped. "What? No!" She shook her head fervently. "No. Robb is like a brother to me. I don't... _no_."

"He's very handsome," Dacey commented. "With those big blue eyes and his mane of auburn curls. All the ladies want him."

"Do you?" Elaena smirked at her.

Instead of blushing like most girls would, Dacey laughed. "I suppose he'd be fun in the sack." That made Elaena blush, which made Dacey laugh even louder. "I didn't mean to offend you, my lady."

Her thoughts became scandalous, and that made her blush harder. Elaena would be lying if she said she hadn't wondered what was beneath his clothes. Most women had, she was sure of it. Even if their fathers or brothers hadn't ordered to, many of the girls wanted to bed him.

"He's very handsome, isn't he?" Elaena said, picturing his face in her head.

Dacey nodded, a smirk on her lips. "And good with words. He's a good leader. Those Northern men wouldn't follow just anyone. My mother wouldn't follow just anyone."

"Do you think he will win this war?" She looked to Dacey, hoping she would say a definite 'yes'.

All that she received was a pitiful smile. Dacey laid a hand upon her shoulder, and gave it a firm squeeze. "I cannot promise you his safety. I cannot promise you that he will win this war. But he has a chance, as much as any of the other men fighting. As much as Tywin Lannister."

That gave her some comfort. Tywin Lannister was a man seasoned in battle, and ruthless in the arts of war. Elaena's mother and siblings suffered from his ruthlessness, and it would be no different for Robb if they won this war.

A man on his horse galloped up to them. He wore no sigil, and he looked foreign. Elaena tilted her head in confusion. Had someone wrote her a letter? Had Viserys written to her again, asking her to betray the Starks?

She walked towards him, as did Dacey. The horse stopped in front of them and kicked in the air. The man steadied his horse before jumping off it.

His hand edged for his sword, and Dacey clutched the hilt of hers.

"Ser," Elaena greeted nervously. "Might I ask what the meaning of this is?"

"You're the Targaryen girl," he snarled. "Purple eyes and a fine gown. Mostly whores have purple eyes. Maybe I'll have you like a whore when I cut your lady-boy friend down."

Dacey glared at him and drew her sword. "I'm afraid you won't be having anyone today."

Their swords clashed. Dacey was a formidable and quick opponent. While the foreign man fought brutally, Dacey fought with honour. Even when he kicked her shins and elbowed her in the nose, she still refused to stoop down to his level. Elaena wondered if it was honourable or foolish.

The man finally defeated her, stabbing her in the leg with a dagger he had kept on his belt. Blood oozed out of the wound and surrounded Dacey in a bright red pool. Elaena moved to help her, but the man blocked her way and laughed darkly.

"She was honourable, that one," he said, nodding behind him. "But honour doesn't cut down your enemies. Now, look at her. Unconscious on the ground, left for death." He brought a knife to her throat. "You scream and I'll cut your throat."

"Let me go," she demanded. "Let me go, _now_."

He chuckled. "You're a fool, girl." A trickle of blood fell from her neck. It was only a prick from the knife, but Elaena knew that he would go deeper. "A little..."

His sentence was cut short. A sword broke through the skin on his neck and appeared through his mouth. Blood gargled in his mouth, spilling down his neck and onto Elaena's sleeve. She watched, wide-eyed, as he fell on his knees in front of her, before collapsing onto the cold ground.

There had been shock in the assassin's eyes before he died, and before that their had been lust mixed with malice. He would have had his way with her. He was going to rape her. Elaena felt no sympathy for a man so cruel and brutal.

She looked up from the assassin and to the man who saved her. His hair was grey and he sported a short beard. In his hand he held a long sword, covered in the assassin's blood.

"You saved me," she said, still shaken by what had happened. Quickly, she remembered her courtesies. "I thank you, Ser. If it wasn't for you I would be dead. How can I ever repay you?"

Surprising Elaena, he fell on one knee. "I would ask to serve on your Queensguard, Your Grace."

Elaena blinked. This man... he called her queen. She had been called many things in her life. Lady Elaena, Dragonspawn, the seed of the Mad King, Lady Targaryen... but no one had even called her 'Your Grace.'

She tried to regain her senses, but then she saw the man with the bowed head and she lost them again.

Dacey. Elaena felt horribly for forgetting about her. "Ser, will you help me bring my friend to the camp? She was protecting me and..."

The man stood, looking slightly disappointed, and nodded. He carried Dacey back to the camp. The maester ordered them to leave so he could fix her wounds, saying that the ointment he used would affect their sense of smell.

"Might I ask your name?" she said after they had left.

"Ser Barristan Selmy, Your Grace," he told her.

"Of Robert Baratheon's Kingsguard?" She tried to keep any malice out of her tone, but it proved to be very difficult. Ser Barristan nodded, shame etched on his aged features. "If you were in his Kingsguard, then why did you save me from his assassin?"

"I should not have taken King Robert's pardon," he admitted, staring at the ground. "And I should not have served in his Kingsguard or in council. I should not have served with the Kingslayer and others near as bad, who soiled the white cloak I wore. Nothing will excuse that. I might be serving in King's Landing still if the vile boy upon the Iron Throne had not cast me aside, it shames me to admit. But he took the cloak the White Bull had draped about my shoulders, and sent men to kill me that selfsame day, it was as though he'd ripped a caul off my eyes. That was when I knew I must find my true king, and die in his service. You are the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, Your Grace. And I would die protecting my queen."

Elaena snapped her gaze over to meet his. "Don't call me that," she warned. "I am not the queen, nor do I want to be. Even if a Targaryen was the rightful heir to the Iron Throne, the king would be my uncle, Viserys, from across the Narrow Sea."

"Viserys is dead," he told her. "Killed by the Dothraki he sold his sister to."

She hadn't known. Viserys and Daenerys were unfamiliar faces, she hadn't spoken to either of them her entire life, but they were family. She felt some comfort in knowing that they were alive, that she was not alone in the world. That she was not the last Targaryen.

"And my aunt, Daenerys?" she asked. "What of her?"

"Alive, as far as I know," Ser Barristan said. "But your claim is stronger than hers, Your Grace."

"Do not address me as 'Your Grace,' Ser Barristan, as I am no queen," she stated. "And I have no desire to sit upon the Iron Throne."

"Then what do you desire?" he asked her.

If someone had asked her the same question a year ago, she would have said that her only desire was to belong. But that year had changed her. She wasn't a girl any more. Her desires were darker now.

"Justice," she answered. "I want justice."

"As queen, you would have your justice," Ser Barristan told her. "You could avenge the deaths in your family."

This man was intelligent, she realised. Elaena hadn't spoke of whom she desired to avenge, but he knew. Perhaps he would be a good companion to have.

"And with what army would I take the Seven Kingdoms?" He didn't have an answer, and instead pressed his lips into a thin line. "Precisely."

"You have family in Dorne." Two uncles, three legitimate cousins and eight bastard ones, fathered by the Red Viper, Oberyn Martell. "They would gladly support your claim. They want justice as much as you do."

Yes, they did, but Elaena didn't want to start a war over a throne she didn't want that much. Although, the war would be for justice and revenge, not for a throne.

Elaena didn't want to hear any more. Her mind was muddled with confusion. She wanted justice, she wanted to hear the screams of the Mountain and Lord Tywin Lannister, but she didn't want to have innocent people killed.

"I do not wish to speak of this any longer, Ser Barristan," said Elaena icily. "You will not join my Queensguard, as I have none, nor will I ever, but I would gladly except your company as a friend."

Ser Barristan looked defeated and frustrated, but he nodded nonetheless. "If you will not have me as a knight of your Queensguard, then have me as your sworn shield, and I will vow to protect you with my life."

He was a brave man, and his prowess in battle was known throughout all Seven Kingdoms. She would be a fool to refuse him.

"I would be honoured, Ser," Elaena said.

"As I am," he replied. "But know this, Your-_my lady_. Though I called you queen first because of your birth right, I call you queen now because I believe you would make a good one."

She smiled. "You have known me for little more than an hour, Ser."

He gave her a warm smile. "And so far, I believe that you would be a good queen."

Her smile faltered. Ser Barristan bowed to her and walked off, leaving Elaena to her thoughts of thrones and vengeance.

* * *

Each time she touched them, the dragon eggs felt warmer. It was as though they were trying to burn through their shells, and they were more than welcome to. She wasn't sure what her reason behind wanting to hatch the dragon eggs was. Maybe she did, subconsciously, want to conquer Westeros, but Elaena was convinced that it was the promise of a place in the history books was what made the idea of hatching dragons so attractive.

"Elaena." She heard Robb's worried voice behind her and spun around. "Are you alright? I heard that you were attacked."

"I was. But I'm fine now." She gave him a reassuring smile. "Ser Barristan the Bold came to my rescue."

Robb's jaw fell. Having grown up hearing tales of the Kingsguard, Elaena supposed that any mention of Ser Barristan would make an adolescent boy want to jump with unadulterated excitement. Even if Robb was pretending to be a man, he still had his idols.

"You're serious?" Elaena nodded, smirking now. Robb shook his head fervently. "No. You're joking. Ser Barristan serves on Joffrey's Kingsguard, why would he come here?"

"Because he thinks I'm the rightful heir to the Iron Throne," she told him.

That surprised Robb even more. They hadn't talked about the Iron Throne much. Elaena had never thought that someone would call her queen, and since she hadn't thought about it, she hadn't prepared for it.

"Do you think you are?" he asked, watching her carefully. He was probably worried that she would go mad and begin obsessing over the Iron Throne.

She shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know. And looking at you, it seems like being a ruler is an awful lot of stress." Robb gave her a weak smile, but Elaena could see through it. He was worn, and they had only been away from Winterfell for a week. "Things will get better, you know. It'll get easier."

Robb raked his fingers through his hair and sighed. "I don't know about that."

"Well, I do," she asserted, earning another small smile. "How are things going with the war?"

"Jaime Lannister has laid siege to Riverrun," Robb answered. He sat down at the edge of her bed. "And Tywin Lannister's forces come from the south. I'm sending Roose Bolton to meet Tywin on the battlefield, while we march on Riverrun."

"Are you sure you can trust Roose Bolton?" Elaena asked, sitting beside him on her bed. "He seems very... untrustworthy, I suppose."

"He's one of my father's bannermen," Robb insisted. "And he hasn't given me any reason not to trust him."

The Boltons had risen against House Stark multiple times throughout history, and were crushed each time. They were ambitious and cruel men. Elaena didn't find Roose Bolton trustworthy at all. If she could, she would send Roose Bolton back home straight away. But they needed his men.

"Be cautious, Robb," she said. "Promise me you'll be cautious."

"I promise." She eyed him warily. Soon, he would be going to battle. So many things had changed. Robb's eyes drifted from her to the chest of dragon eggs. "Still obsessing over the dragon eggs?"

There was no mocking in his tone, only a slight jest, but Elaena felt like a silly child.

"You must think me foolish," she said, staring at the beautiful eggs almost longingly. "Staring at dragon eggs while you fight a war."

His smile was reassuring and gentle, with a twinge of sadness. "I don't think you any more foolish than I think myself to be. I'm a boy, pretending to be a man leading seasoned soldiers into battle."

"You're not a boy any more, Robb," Elaena said. "You've grown. And you'll be a great commander."

Robb scoffed. "I don't know the first thing about being a commander."

She rested a hand on his. "You'll learn."

"We're at war, Elaena," he told her. "There's no room for learning."

* * *

Dacey's wounds were healing quickly. The maester did well, and Elaena made a mental note to commend him for his work. He said that she would be right for battle within two weeks. Elaena detected a trace of disapproval in the maester's voice, which Dacey had scoffed at.

"He's good and all," she said, sipping her water. "But he sticks his nose up at women, and particularly at women-warriors."

Elaena smiled and rested a hand on Dacey's. "He got you better, didn't he? I'm glad you're well. I couldn't stand the guilt if you had died."

Dacey smiled back at her. "Us Mormont women are hard to kill. How did you escape the assassin?"

"A knight saved me." Dacey raised an amused eyebrow. "It's true. Ser Barristan Selmy saved me, and declared me to be the one true Queen of Westeros." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "And he asked to join my 'Queensguard.' I told him that I wasn't the queen, and that I had no desire to sit the Iron Throne."

"And?" the Mormont woman pressed.

"He asked to be my sworn shield." She jumped up in her bed, and winced slightly from the pain in her leg. "Careful, Dacey."

"What did you say?" she asked eagerly.

Elaena grinned. "I said yes, of course. The finest knight in Westeros asked to be my sworn shield, I could hardly say no, could I?"

"You said no to becoming the Queen of Westeros, did you not?" Elaena frowned. "I don't believe many people would say no to that much power."

"I have no army to take it," Elaena reminded her.

Dacey smirked. "If you asked Robb..."

She gave her a look. "You overestimate Robb's affection for me."

"And you underestimate it," she responded, with an even larger smirk on her pretty face. "Is there not even a part of you – a tiny, tiny part – that wants the throne?"

She was about to shake her head when she began to think. Being Queen of Westeros meant that she would have tremendous power, and she could be a fair and just ruler. Ser Barristan, who had served numerous kings during his years in the Kingsguard, thought that she would be a good queen. But even if she wanted the throne enough to start a war, who would fight for her? Perhaps Dorne, but Elaena didn't want the rest of Westeros to see her as weak, needing her uncle's army to take the Seven Kingdoms.

"Maybe." Much to Elaena's chagrin, Dacey grinned. "I said _maybe_."

Dacey fell back into the bed, looking very satisfied with herself. "Still better than a no."

* * *

Her arms found their way around Lady Stark as soon as Elaena saw her. Things had went to chaos while she was gone, and Elaena had childish faith that Lady Stark could mend everything.

"I told you to keep my son safe," Lady Stark said, stroking Elaena's hair as she embraced her. "And now he's leading eighteen thousand men into battle?" Upon seeing Elaena's crestfallen look when she pulled away, Lady Stark's stern expression softened. "He told me how good you've been. Robb called you his closest advisor."

Elaena smiled. She had been so worried that Lady Stark would be disappointed with her. The first time Robb had wanted to go war, she talked him out of it. But the second time... she agreed with it. They had Lord Stark, the man who protected her from Robert Baratheon. She wanted him freed as much as Robb did.

"I'm sorry I couldn't talk him out of it," Elaena said. "I thought... I thought it was just. They have Lord Stark, who knows what they'll do with him?"

Lady Stark nodded in agreement. "You were right. War was unavoidable. Though, I am wondering why you had to follow Robb here."

"I wanted to come," she admitted. "I didn't want to stay in Winterfell worrying about you and Robb. You told me to help him. How could I help him from Winterfell?"

A ghost of a smile found its way on Lady Stark's lips. "I wish that all of Robb's bannermen were as loyal as you, Elaena. We're leaving tomorrow for the Twins."

"Why?"

"Robb needs to cross," Lady Stark told her. "Lord Walder Frey controls the crossing."

Elaena looked down. She knew they would have to go to war soon, but the mention of going south made it seem more real.

"What will his price be?" Elaena asked.

A sigh escaped Lady Stark. "A high one, that's all I know. Lord Walder has never failed to use his advantageous position to fill his pockets." The elder woman studied Elaena, making her feel like a child about to be scolded, but no scolding came. "Robb told me that Ser Barristan Selmy is your sworn shield now. Will you tell me how that came about?"

The floor became all the more interesting. Though her actions were not treasonous, she was afraid of what Lady Stark might think once she learned of Ser Barristan's beliefs.

"I was attacked, and he saved me." Her lips were pressed together in a thin line, almost reluctant to tell what had happened. "He called me 'Your Grace' and asked to join my Queensguard."

Lady Stark was not pleased. "And what did you say?"

"No, of course," Elaena said quickly. "I didn't want to be queen."

"Do you now?"

"I don't know."

Another sigh came from Lady Stark. "I worried that this day would come. The day when you decided that you wanted to reclaim your grandfather's throne."

"I don't know if I want it," she repeated. "And even if I did, I have no army. And I am just a girl. Nobody wants to be ruled by a girl."

"Robb is just a boy," Lady Stark said, wearing a proud smile. "And his father's bannermen listen to him. You remind me of your father, Elaena. Rhaegar Targaryen. He was a good man, though a foolish one. When he walked into a room, the room went silent. You could be as great as him."

Elaena furrowed his eyebrows in confusions. "Wait, my lady. Are you saying that I should try to reclaim the throne?"

She laid a hand upon Elaena's shoulder. "I'm not sure what I'm saying. I just want you to be happy, Elaena. I've raised you with own children, and I consider you as one of my own. What mother wouldn't want her child to be happy?"

Would the Iron Throne make her happy? She would be damning the lives of thousands. Men, women and children would die for her ambitions. And she had no army. The Iron Throne was but an unattainable dream.

* * *

_**Author's Note: **I hope that you guys liked this chapter. I'm not sure about it to be honest, so make sure to tell me what you think! Constructive criticism is more than welcome._

_Until next time :)_


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